A Tainted Soul

Some affairs of life no longer disturb me. The ultimate demise of my corporal body is no longer feared. The ominous threat of ashes to ashes; dust to dust merely holds symbolic worth.

For the soul is the very essence of life. Once the soul has been dashed upon the rocks at the bottom of the abyss, existence of the very being of man ceases to be. While the physical body can be repaired , the soul is not afforded that luxury. Human organs can be harvested for transplant, nothing of the sort for the soul. What medication has been marketed for a broken soul? None.

My temporal body presents itself for all to witness, but my soul is secret and sacred. A temple offered entry to a select few. It cries with anguish at my indiscretions. It desires to again be intact., but all hopes for recovery are vanquished.