Thoughts are wind which can only be felt
Like a poison to the sick are thought
Giving solace and relief to the dying pot
Causing an invisible havoc only which direction can be smelt

Thoughts are reserved for a man of balanced health
Whose life is full of pre-seasoned hurt
Although,a joyful man he ought
His heart is adorned with welt

Leaving a trace of self condolence and detriment
And the soul becomes sorely judgemental
What thoughts gives isn't what the thought receipt

The mind and the thinking get into great/furious vehement
"What is" to "the want" is sentimental
Entirely because of the thought (Heart) deceit.