Transition

A soul submerges into greater depth for 

A soul that meets it halfway through.

akin to two miscible liquids they become one

Unpacks itself and abandons parts of,

trying to accept the foreign luggage.

Too many colours it holds

Is it a rainbow?

Is it a chameleon?

Is one's joy, other's camouflage?

Is one's camouflage, other's joy?

Soul can only be encapsulated within a limit

Never derived to be indeterminate

Stuck in its own preposterous mind

Love of a soul averts potential

Indeed, Love is a barrier.

Set free only is the soul upon its death

cage unlocks and freedom it struck upon

Complete or incomplete

this darkness discriminates none

Loses the Naive Virginity of blockade

Yet only missed for a fools lifetime

Sacred in its own ways

Defying it is Sacrilege

As a soul blossoms into spectre

Indeed, is death a transition.