Broken souls carry the past
Never a future to begin with
Fragments of a broken heart
Peace that cannot be found
So impossible
A thought of how these things came to be and why
Why is the broken never fixed when glued so tight?
Why does the soul fight hard to escape its temple?
My worries are not in what's to come in the future but how can fix what's current.
Do I run towards the hand that reaches to save me or do I fall on face repeatedly asking for a way out.
Pain kisses my lips more then Gods grace and forgiveness
I speak the truth with a broken soul
I eat what is good and it turns bitter all the time.
My hands shake the hands of reality that tells me that I'm hopeless, joke, useless, and yet I still force myself to find a light of beauty that everybody speaks of...
Where is this beauty that everybody speaks of?
Life is a twist within a twist
Based on confusion
Turning hope into a lost tale

By: Leory Santana Dawn