Souls, are but stardusts in the human forms,
One in two bodies, separated, by a distance so short,
But still roving around the world, searching for the one
Whom they can finally call home.
Each facing the wrong direction,
Getting lost in all the chaos and transactions,
Wandering and treasure hunting in the wilderness
Where all they find is something they can't treasure less.
Each forgetting to seek what lies beneath
For what they seek is always underneath;
The beginning always becomes the end.
'The Treasure', they say,'is always behind.'
All that's left is to turn around and find the one
Where you can finally be home.