Poetic Inversion

Tormented Soul

When all the light has fled,

Where will you find your bed?

Will tunnels be homes 

filled with rats and bones?

Your life has lost meaning,

your suffering no longer demeaning.

All tools for creation of darkened beauty

Songs of sorrow, lament your pain

Your Requiem created, 

your power unaided,

Your intrigue continues to grow

But yet only serves to create more sorrow

You never understand how important you are,

Yet falling seems all you are able to know,

Well free-fall, tormented soul,

And fly, forever more

Don't waste regrets on people who care,

Pain only makes us care more

If a voice to be heard 

is all I can be,

or a face to talk to

Is all you can see

Then my job is only just begun

But this is your story, 

Not mine to interfere.

Let me be a writer, a narrator, a fool

If I ever thought that I was more than a tool

But this is your story,

Not mine to interrupt,

Your volcano is soon to erupt

Ash will fall and take your place

Dowsing the morning glow

Engulfed in a shadow, 

Your life would be complete

If only you told yourself 

not to leap

You are the people,

This poem's namesake

and for you, this poem,

Is what I create.

So do with your life

Whatever you must,

But learn not to let yourself

Succumb to lust.

Free-fall, tormented soul

And fly free forever more.