Incomplete Souls
Our incomplete souls
filled with desires of all kinds
some of them aren’t even mine
the closer I get to the prize
the more something else catches my eye
I feel like I’m not in control
I sit between shelves
of objects
too many to collect
what I want never ends
just makes me worship
the lack
how far do you have to
zoom out
for it to all make sense
to the point where
we appear
as driven insects
or further until
we’re molecules
in a dance
guided by forces
not discovered
yet