Hand The Key Poem by john (called jack) wren

From its cell within our body
Our soul is hollow and bare,
Shipwrecked on this Earth
It pants and pants in prayer.

Like a prisoner in a dungeon
Who has no where to hide,
It cries out to be set free
By kindness personified.

A thirst when fulfilled would
Be sweet as honey to the soul,
Casting out the bareness and
Bringing love to fulfil its roll.

Guard your soul, guard it well
It's your refuge from life's strife,
Only give the key to your door
To The Way, The Truth and The Life.