In a world where the flesh conceals the bone,
And minds and souls are implanted, not grown,
Where women shatter vases against the wall,
And men drown in a sea of alcohol,
A search ensues to find that elusive one,
Yet beds become mere stations, never home.
For the flesh, yearning, searches for more,
Unfulfilled, as it transcends its physical core.
In a realm devoid of hope, of second chance,
We are trapped, captive to a singular dance.
No soul shall ever stumble on the one;
No destiny, no cosmic thread to be spun.
The city\'s dumps overflow without respite,
Junkyards and madhouses, where sorrows alight,
Hospitals teem with afflictions and pain,
As graveyards stand filled, a solemn refrain.
In this vast void, there is nothing to fill,
No substitute, no balm for this bitter spill.
Yet, amidst the bleakness, a voice shall rise,
A whispered echo of strength, that softly tries:
Beyond the flesh, beyond the bone and skin,
There lies a beacon, a light deep within.
Though the world may falter, darkness prevail,
Love\'s flame flickers, never destined to fail.
So let us seek within, our spirits entwined,
To find solace, connection, leaving fate behind.
For though the search for the one may seem vain,
The spark we ignite, invincible it shall remain. (\"Beyond the Flesh\") by Courtney Weaver Jr.