If his mind was always in a daydream,
In his eyes - the awakening of a new fear,
And his feet - with no direction to turn.
How do his eyes see anything -
But his darkening soul within?
How do his hands reach out,
With nothing to grasp?
It's a lonely road,
For a soul without purpose.
And it's about to crumble,
Under weightless pressure.
Thursday 30th June 2016 8:36 am