Hopeful Soul
I open my soul.
Out of myself I pour myself.
Prior, my vault was found full.
Within fault I find myself.
Out rush questions unanswered.
Wounds left still fractured.
Memories, bound and captured.
Moments haunting flaunted before me.
But nothing found behind me.
I turn my head.
What is the difference between a memory replayed and fantasy my heart is fed?
If my soul can leap from my body, and I am my soul,
Then whatever leaps from my soul must be what I am truly made of.
What leaps from my soul is hope.
Hope must be what I am made of.
Yet it leaves me..
But how would I ever know it was what I am made of,
If hope never leapt forth from me to see?
It seems I must lose myself to learn myself.
Lost in thought I am.
Lost in memories I am.
But now I emerge for air.
No longer holding my breath waiting for hope,
I breath out despair.
(2015)
