Human World

The world is spinning, walking, turning,
While inside, the soul is burning,
Looking for the perfect place,
To establish an eternal base,
But it is one of many spheres,
Created by the darkest tears,
Running to the timeless urn,
To which someday we will return.

But for the moment we are protected,
Because of the tears - darkness rejected,
So come with me, take my hand,
To that perfect, distant land.