Go on,
Go ahead,
You’re always, almost there,
That is,
Until you see that
“Almost”
Is another way of saying
You’re still alive, my dear,
Your heart and soul
Are waiting for you,
On the steps,
By the train station,
In the city of your mind,
The breeze carries
A waft of burning embers,
Breathing in the wind
from your ignited soul,
That you set on fire
In your darkness
To ease your suffering
And bring peace to your mind,
To vanquish the demons
And embrace your inner skin,
That endlessly burns,
In the breeze,
Spreading the wildfire,
As you take off, emblazoned
By the flight
Of your inner lightness,
As you come alive.
Really interesting. For such an irreligious person, soul seems to occupy your mind quite a bit. Perhaps irreligious is the wrong word. The first half of the poem could apply to me but the last line discounts that! xx
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