What is the Human Essence? Could you always define the soul of a human? Is it like waves? That are ever changing of feelings, like a changeable cloud on a sunny morning? The morning is crisp and cut-clean like your emotions to something you love to do.
Or is it like a compass? A space compass, that has feelings of A nervous person that's oneself Needle half-trembling, spinning- rotation in illogical, unscientific, ill-minded fashion? It's unable to be guided by the moon of the earth. The elaborate memories and emotions like a pufferfish? The pufferfish that can be made into a delicacy or can kill if the Maker if not careful? Is it like a metaphysical poem? Like John Donne? The poems that eludes interpretations for decades and when experts finally fall apart in some parts of it, other aspects seem to melt away into the unknown.
Emotions pulsates through the heart of human nature. Perhaps that's impinging on our brains and the bundle of voices. That's what makes its intriguing. When we grow old, the mind will digress and regress slowly to the point that the human will not get concerned about their soul, but the-the other side. The unknown. We wait and seek the unknown world after death itself. I am a convex lens, I converge beauty and light rays. I gather light rays in various different ways. I remain low on the Earth. A low Earth concentrated on my focus and that's my worth. Real images that I form my dear, My thinking, not a prisoner that's uncalled My fear. The storm of the Earth is everlasting on the land you have planted oneself too. Goodbye to Yesterday.
