Walking on a dark narrow path,
With my head down to the ground,
Eyes swollen, my shattered heart,
From far away I hear some sound;
Eyeing up to the skies I see,
Birds in the air, so full of hilarity,
With their families, and so free,
But I am alone, losing my vivacity.
The mirrors, the waters, don’t reflect me,
Immortal I am, always will be,
Do I have a soul or am I a soul?
What am I? I want to know, to God I plea.
And I reach where the dead are asleep,
A large crowd of people, there I see,
Crying for the person, lying at their feet,
Getting through I find, a reflection of me.
The Poetess: Mr-Craxout
The Weaver (@theweavrs) February 12, 2016
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