the soul cries out from stoic faces
all bound up in plans and chases
seeking more and getting less
in every way no truth confess
some new dream would feed me better
all thought out - yes to the letter
on and on the quest is run
in search of some new source of fun
still the wails fill every plane
so much loss for so much gain
your plan in truth is poorly made
there is no love in your parade
the way of life is still an option
there's something more than your concoction
the life that is the source of all
still sends its eternal call
one must take the time to hear it
to share its love - no more to fear it
lifes one purpose is to serve
to live its perfect love takes nerve
this special gift of life is free
there is no purchase price you see
love abounds for those who let it
a willing heart is how you get it
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