Inside there lies
a River that flows
where to and where from
Truly, no one knows.
Searching the soul
for empty places to fit
until the Day
the Levy is slit;
what is contained
is spilled in waste.
Emptiness remains
in it's desolate place.
Ironically the Truth
if you want to know;
it is something that isn't
missed; until it goes!
When the 'missing' is discovered
it can no longer be recovered.
Mope around in sorrow and shame.
Seek protection; but none will
be found.
Only a hole where many
who have trod have unexpectedly
drown.
Crying out in desperate pain,
there are no symapthetic ears
nor anyone who cares.

It is not determined what hurts
worse, the desperaton of knowing
it's forever gone:
or the desolation of emptiness
That stands alone,
Taking the soul
in the River's place!

 
Copyright © blessed2003, All Rights Reserved