Gothic, extravagant houses and towns have my soul’s name written on them
But it is too small to be seen with the naked eye, or even with a telescope
My name does not feel like the one that was assigned to me, although I appreciate it still
I fail to fully belong to this time, but it does have its perks
I bathe in the symphony of the silence in the places that summon my soul
How many have been or are yet to be destroyed by pure greed, by those who decide its value from their own inconvenience
Or the places left to die, never to be attended to, for these awful humans deem them unworthy of their time
Care and love drip from my fingertips, linger in my veins
When can I reach you, my distant homes, the ones which are tied to my soul’s name?