The Air

It comfortably stretches into the house
and doesn't mind the walls at all
It enjoys the rare tranquility with no disturbance
from the wild wind from the highness

The master walks in
and thinks he entitles everything there is
but he is only living so fragile in it
and doesn't even take any from it when he leaves
because it goes back to the space most of time

The soul on the other hand
floats through the air without notice
in the free form even it admires
Because it knows anything outside of itself
is the true master like highness