Midnight in a perfect world; /

beautiful oblivion lingers in darkness./

Cold in the heart of the spark that is lit…/

For, by itself, it is only nothingness.

Meaning lives on in the depth of mortal coil/

a concrete structure of day-to-day doesn’t mix with it; like water and oil./

Emptiness, with a certain substance that is sure to ask,

“What does your Soul look like?” And has raw artistry propelled it…

…Only to crash? Gone in the sweep of oblivion, perhaps? /

Sacred only, is the impact of impressions, surpassing all time and space.

It is true, that one day, even YOU will forget your face, /

regardless of it’s beautiful shape. /

Better to make your mark from the inside,

for, tattoos on the skin will fade into the earth, leaving only eyes of mind. /

No one can truly define the dimensions of such a blurred line of oblivion.

But rest assured, that in your body’s decomposition, /

when all things that we find grand, are no longer there to find…/

In the midst of such beautiful oblivion and thus absence of life,

no concrete subject needs to ask, or find answer to…

“What does your Soul look like?”

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Mike O’Toole A/K/A “SOUL ENIGMA”