A great soul hides like Muhammad, or Jesus my soul hides for that it's not trying to be seen, the stress between mind and soul is the slice we took that made us whole, movement speaks to ones emotion, a drifting wind is like waves in the ocean, speak on an exspierence that controls ones thoughts, mind of a minster, soul of a thug, black is beauty, brown plays it's part, white seem so distant as the reach is so far, hands on one past, but the feeling is cold, unravel the ice cube, notice your soul, look deep within those cold fingers steaming from heat, Jesus a rose to send this message to me, one can say a thousand words and still  have nothing to say, close your mouth and wonder, the path to where you wondered it's least about your pray,