During the course of my thoughts
A friend I thought I forgot
Sent me a portal of sorts
And I thought, why don’t I give it a shot.

Brilliant, it seemed to me,
Writings as far as I could see,
Scribbled in black on white,
Peaceful and soulful, like birds in flight.

May I enter, I asked, polite,
You may, but you may not, it proposed.
Why, I asked, with a frown upon my delight
You may, it said, but a poem you should have composed.

Flabbergasted, I sit down,
On the brink of utter sadness.
Thinking to my sulking self
What the hell do I write? This is madness!

The soul of her being, torn apart and dragged
Through the gates of despair and agony.

Soul, broken into crumbs of desolation,
Left her reeling, in the realm of painful epiphany.

Soul, hoping for the torment to die,
In want to fix the broken pieces of her mold.

Drops from a rain, so heavy, yet light
Left her dry but drenched fully in soul.

Soul, unchained and forever in flight,
By the love that rained and made her world whole.