In the centre of the mind there is a cavern, Where lies the mystery of the Soul. A sanctuary for kindness, pity and sorrow, The refuge of love and tenderness. Here secure but imprisoned Cornered and unafraid, They create the warmth, That filters through To the outer being And softens those features that confront us. Too often this cavern in the centre of the mind, Becomes incarcerated by the vile and the corrupt. Cruel deeds, perverted thoughts, hurtful passions. Such evils impede the migration of the 'good things' As they permeate towards that inner cell. They become defiled, Their purity is lost. No longer can they penetrate The membrane of the Soul. The fire dies, the warmth fades, the features harden.