I wake up with the haze in my vision
Thinking what should have been my mission
Clouds gather, thick as thieves.
Leaving me wondering when my anchors fled
I'm a story to discover, not important so far.
Dusty and abandoned, the cobwebs held fast
Feeding on my daily seclusion.
It was a long ride to consciousness,
I'm barely beginning to grasp the awareness.
Filled with writings of a language lost in time.
Who is this trouble digging through my hidden lines.
-spec-lon
YOU ARE READING
Soul Tales
PoetryThis book contains poems that talk about the mind and soul, and how they find peace through the waves of struggle and pain.
