Well of Souls

Into the light we soar,
Loosed from our earthly bonds.
Angels we thought did not exist
Come smiling to meet us.
What is it they want from us?
We have no more gold;
Our real estate passed to kin;
Our jewels, precious but useless,
adorn the napes of younger
women than we, my friend.
I have nothing of value left to give.
Even my humming creativity
has fled me, lacking eyes to see.
Neither beauty nor squalor
can touch me now.
I can no longer help another,
nor unwittingly give pain.
I no longer seek to be loved
nor to love in turn.
Without emotions, I simply am no more.
What is it you wish from me?
The most precious of all belongings,
only lent to you, your soul,
so it may be born again.

Nyuka Anas Laurent 30.01.2010