Death of a Soul


My soul isn’t dead, it’s fast asleep,

Dreaming of all that it shall one-day achieve.

A day from it’s sleep it shall awaken

Asking me a ton of rhetorical questions.

But not a single answer of mine shall suffice

Hurt it will be to know, I left it alone to live a lie.

Sad it is that my soul hasn’t yet died,

No matter the odds, no matter how hard I tried.

But how to tell this poor soul of mine,

Of the lives we live, in this inhumanly time.

Where to live our self centred dreams,

Our souls have to be killed from within.







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