This a pilgrim soul
Searching Love, Peace and Mirth
It’s held captive in the morning sunshine
How it shrinks in the twilight
This soul weighed down by so many questions
Which cannot be surpassed?
Where will it meet the answers?
In heaven or in hell?
While in heaven it blooms like a flower
In hell it slithers like a serpent…..
Like Prufrock's, it lies in fragments
Its voice dimly sane turns insane in no time
Its fate is like that of a vagabond
It wanders from place to place
From heaven to hell
From earth to sky
From fire to water
In search of Love, Peace and Mirth…..
Loved the wandering thoughts.
ReplyDeleteKeep writing.
:)
thoughtfully written, the soul searching experience is well etched.
ReplyDeleteThe red fonts were it by design or default ?
If by default - then at least for me, it was hurting the eye.
If by design - then maybe somewhere it connected with the pain the soul goes through.
Hi nice poem there!Keep writing..
ReplyDeletepls do pay me a visit at my page:
www.assorted-platter.blogspot.com
Tx.
echoes Sartre in some ways, existential neurosis is the bane of the intellect. The discerning mind will never find peace.
ReplyDeletekeep writing, beautiful piece....