With a lack of attachment, not a one in sight
What keeps you grounded to this earth, stops the soul from taking flight?
Heavy sorrow keeps you anchored, at least for awhile
Eventually that wears thin and you find something else to add to the pile
Sometimes it's easier to converse with those you dislike
They add to the weight you carry, stirring up the strife
No chance of floating away, where nothingness exists
No chance of letting go and finding a new way to bliss.
This is not a life of living, just fear of letting go
Changing into something you have yet to know.
Perhaps you wont drift away into the clouds
Maybe you will sore with control and ease when you give up that excess shroud.
