when life’s gone awry
and prayers are all unanswered
the soul’s enveloped
in a darkness where no sounds
of hope or joy can be heard
soul
soulless…
when
all
your dreams
have vanished
in
the night
how will you
wake
from
the deep sleep
of
your despair
will you
offer up a prayer
as
morning doves
warn
you
of
the coming
of
the new day
or
will you merely
melt
into edges
of
your fears
never
to rise
again
endurance…
hate’s icy embrace
encrusts the soul so deeply
love cannot free it
thoughts during sleepless nights…
there are
more
dead
than alive
on
battlefields
so
many martyrs
rushing to death
to
save souls
lost
long
before
the battle began
but
blind belief
as
all
belief
has to be
since
belief
has no foundation
in
reality
it’s just
an undocumented
immigrant
outside the borders
of
reason
settling
wherever
there
is
a vacant heart
those
homeless encampments
thirsty
for
hope’s pure waters
said to flow
from
the fountain
of
youth
or
perhaps
the concept caves
of
rebirth
that
eternal existence
that can
shun
the coldest
of
death’s frosted earth
for
it is said
that the soul
rises
before
entering the grave
so
what use
were those bells
were
they for
just nonbelievers
who were
prematurely
ushered
into
the void
not
having a chance
to
declare
tho
hesitantly
their belief
in
the wonderland
of
afterlife
but
who is to say
since
no one
has
stepped forward
from
their crypt
to
provide
any
testimony
baital…
invisible words
that can manipulate minds
though always whispered
they cut deep into the soul
hope’s demonic possession
i’ve lived…
nothing
will be placed
upon
the earth
to
mark
that i was here
it is
by my choice
for
no one
really
looks at graves
oh
someone
may wander by
and
comment
about
a clever verse
inscribed
upon
the marble
but
it is
the inscription
that’s
recalled
not
the person
no one
ever really knew
the
person
that
housed the soul
beneath
the flesh
that’s
why
we’re not recalled
we began
as a faded image
and
death
merely bleached
what
was left
leaving
at best
a sketch
of
what
people wanted
to
believe
even when…
his prayers
never
saved
a single soul
nor
kept death
from
the doors
of
those he loved
his
devotions
to
the divine
were
his hopes
offered
to
his
beliefs
not
to
any one god
just
a simple contract
with
himself
so as
to
have a reason
for
awakening
late arrival…
had you come here before
you would have found your soul
but life detours much of truth
sending many on journeys
that have no destination
vessel…
these are not
my emotions
this anger
and fear
is older than
my years
upon this earth
it is the taste
of dried blood
and the dust
of those once
enslaved
freed by death
to wander with
whatever winds
reach into soul
to reanimate
their words
so their sorrow
and stories
can be retold
these are not
my words
so expect
no apologies
or
absolution
of social sins
the dead
cannot make
such offerings
to the living
they can only
recall the sins
you’ve lived
and
the pain
you’ve bestowed
sentient force…
that which has not changed
is that which has not been seen
dormant in the soul
Read Between the Minds 