The soul

Ephemeral the life
limited the mind
mortal the body
no time to rewind,
fickle the world
omnipotent the heart
a world that's indifferent
right from the start.

Suspect the word
from certain mouths
simple the hoardes 
who turn to uncouth,
arrogant the cynic
shallow the wealthy
our new world turns
to more that's unhealthy.

Despairing the youth
abstract in life
fumbling for meaning
creating the strife,
populism blunders
nothing sacred anymore
idle the virtues
the ego is sore.

As we live in prose
stop digging the hole
for the ocean of purpose
is the treasure of the soul.