The
       shape
  of a soul.
My soul,
an empty thing,
    yet it fills
you to the brim
   with being
  something you can’t see,
       even though it’s right in front of you.
               in madness,  I can see it more clearly,
              and in madness I can see your soul as well.
          Our souls sing songs of sadness, of love, or hate.,
     Your soul is jagged and rugged, with past playing a part.
My soul  is smooth and determined,  you can tell by the  shape.
It’s  like  the  word   itself  is  a  heartbeat,  the center of chakra.
When  you  are  brave,  this   soul  will   become   stronger   than before. When insanity enters,any trace of  your   soul  vanishes from your body, becoming something   on  a   higher   plane,        deep  within  you. It feels as though you have disappeared                 entirely  but, you  haven’t,   it’s    just    that    you 

            have  become something    that    is    unable

                       to    be   aware.      A soul   coils 

                         into  the  shape  of a sphere,

                            with     essence     leaking

                               drifting  to the  top of 

                                       the sky’s lid
                                dissipating   eternally.