I don’t believe in god or a higher power or that one religion is superior to another religion; so for me, the term soul is used in a philosophical manner.
What does the afterlife hold in store for a man who lies, cheats, boasts, enjoys prostitutes and says it’s not true, uses the US presidency to enhance his wealth, never served in his country’s military for a “trumped-up” reason, bullies and has a wife who runs an anti-bullying bullying campaign, pretends to win golf championships, name calls, colludes with autocrats from Russia and Saudi Arabia, is a bigot, a racist and the most narcissistic man to ever hold the office of POTUS.
Where does his soul go?
It goes to the gilded, empty, cold, Trump Tower, where everything a man touches turns to gold. No warmth, no love, no cookies and milk, no little puppies to lick your face, no fond memories of people you’ve loved and sacrificed for, no warm summer days where the balmy breeze tickles your face and blows your hair, no Snickers bars, no gentle caresses, no warm baths, no loving gazes, no sense that your life helped the needy and under-privileged… only ice-cold-gold.
Welcome to your future Mr. Trump.
Oh, and one more thing. There’s a thousand-foot-high-wall that surrounds your final condo resting place. It was built by all the money you stole from people who believed you were an honest man.
