Like angry leaves of fall,
Like the sun, melting all the shields,
Like a book, revealing the world's beauty,
Magnificent, strong, cunning.
What do they see?
Gentle hands on all places,
Like globalization, grabbing everything,
Like an intellectual, calling to more questions,
Like the moon, touching everything from one spot,
Frightening, dominant, worthy.
What do they feel?
But the soul, well, she's the most beautiful,
Above the sun and the moon,
Wider than a book,
More powerful than all the greedy men,
But closed like a hypocrite,
Distant, afraid, hidden,
Clear and comprehensive,
And yet endless,
Hidden in an avalanche of emotions.
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