Just a simple idea begging to be sort into words and phrases...
Will you still love me when I've got nothing but my aching soul?
I must say that those very words seem something so powerful. It is the most desperate pleas of pleas to a lover or indeed, maybe, a soul mate. You cannot ignore the beguiling thought of death when you read those words. It expresses a certain kind of forever that I cease to fully comprehend. I mean what is written, is in fact uncannily true! We are just souls, residing in a human body. I don't think we can completely appreciate the enormity and precious wisdom a soul is bound by.
Some people wear their souls on their sleeves. At least, that's how I see it. They are such incredibly beautiful people inside and out. Their beauty on the outside is amplified by the exuberant beauty of having such show of a raw soul. It seems almost sad that some people leave people so awe inspired but those very people have also been left wanting nothing...
Have you ever met someone that just strikes you as the most incredible, wise, meaningful being in the entire world? But you cannot fathom or even understand what it is that clothes this person in a golden dust of holiness... Those are the kind of people that wear their souls on their sleeves.
I guess, what I only hope and wish, I do not want to reveal the resplendent beauty of my very own soul to those who ignore it's precious passion out of naivety. But then who will be my audience when I finally place my soul on a plush velvet pillow, encased in a glass box, surrounded by grand structures of beauty, built just to house my spirit in? Who will be the awe struck audience indulging in the very sight of this soul?
I am afraid that I might not have an audience. That the only way for people to understand you is to shockingly sew your soul onto your sleeve embroidered with love and passion and stitched with desperate pleas of good intention.
It's rather sad isn't it... The art and beauty of the very life we live is hardly accessible.