"Please don't slip"

Spoken slyly to the Spirit from the Soul.

"Watch your step each way, but guide me up into the place that you reside."

"Oh soul"  the Spirit shouted in a tone of reprimand.

"Your an anchor not a sail, now keep our course West and true."


Arrogant and proud the Spirit caught the strongest wind.

It ripped at every part, stitches shredded across the sea.


Upon disintegration the Spirit looked back for the Soul.

"Save us now, Its not too late!" spoke the Spirit one last time.

The Soul sat in silence powerless, Nothing more than a witness to the destruction of the Spirit.


A sense of relief came over the Soul as the Spirit's pull expired.

A moment of peace stolen quickly by despair.


Without the Spirit the Soul has no purpose.

No need to secure a vessel without propulsion.

Little time had passed until the Soul dissolved into the sea.