The Purity of the Human Soul

" Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and temperate" - William Shakespeare His question ponders through my mind For he claimed how thou art more beautiful than thee Enchanting summer with its mother; the sun For thou are indeed my guide Thou art my sun that never misleads Thou art the one person I shan't leave And shan't wish to be gone by the morning's rise O treasure deep within my soul Beam so strong to enlighten my days Art thou hearing the wonderful tune? Playing so softly with the rise of the light But then again thou art brighter than the sun Thou art the glass of pure water Emerging from the steep, creamy waterfall Gleaming sparks attached to your white neck Purifying the light touching your skin " Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Nay, for thou art more beautiful than a summer's day For if I do compare The sun shall melt and the wind shall be amazed By the beauty thou behold Embedded deep within your soul Beauty isn't only from the outside, but from the inside; within a soul, For the outside might just be a disguise, to simply foul one into ambuscades