SOULFUL?
How much in our lives do we give away?
And for what? To whom? How much love we spend
unwitting, never counting returns until
broke and wanting with hunger-angered fists
clenched in supplication. Some say power
is the social currency, but I argue
here that suffering buys all resources
meaningful to the soul – and what is ‘soul’?
Some may ask – young, fool, or soulless wretches
more wont to ask than most – yet philosophers
for ages valued introspection, self-
truth as the catalyst for righteousness
and the impious never beyond themselves
could realize this fullness we call soul.

It falls apart at the volta. Any suggestions? It almost seems like two distinct poems rather than one…