How deep the riddles seem to ride
My mind questions how this can be
My eyes have seen what reality hides
The numbing of what comes naturally

Is this true a truth that's told
The stack is five to one
The odds of the mind to become so numb
That it knows not what it's done

Swayed by the breeze of surface
So that only dust may settle there
No depth is dug for purpose
So that the soul may never find it's fare

And how does one right this wrong
From the depths of breath not told
That the soul would find a nutured share
For what it was born to naturally know