Where does the light from our souls come from?
Are our souls infrared or glowing in the dark?
Even white light changes when passed through a prism,
As a child is altered by life’s prison-like arc.
My soul might be a mix of many hues,
Wrapped in a coat, let the envies shine bright.
I might be sold tonight, then crowned anew,
Let Pharaohs know my brothers have the light.
That’s the dimmed light, needing objects moved,
To reveal its brilliance, long subdued.
On the fourth day, God made light, it’s proved,
But when came darkness, where demons brood?
When did He craft the darkness of midnight?
The shadows where evil spirits reside?
The blackness I see with eyes shut tight?
The void that surrounds us when we’ve died?
They say at death, we see only light,
A guide to lead us to heavenly heights.
Angels aglow, too bright to behold,
As our lives before us swiftly unfold.
The Lord passes judgment, our deeds in sight,
That’s the day we all see the light.
But what of those who’ve lived in shade?
Will their souls, too, be light-arrayed?
Perhaps the light and dark intertwine,
Two sides of a coin, both divine.
Our souls are a canvas of shadow and glow,
A masterpiece only the Creator can know.
So let us embrace both darkness and light,
For in their balance, we find our might.
Our souls are complex, a spectrum so vast,
Shining through prisms of the future and past.
rustian ⚡
