The soul whispers to itself,
hoping for an answer from it knows not where.
Can truth be hidden so well?
Is it a test, a game,
or is it needless?
Are passions merely for experiencing?
Is existance a fleeting glimpse of light,
or is there a purpose to be found?
The mind can be smothered,
but can passions be extinguished?
Will it end in death,
or reflect itself?
And then.... Indifference.