A Roaming Soul

Whilst some rejoice others mourn......

Whilst tinsel towns glistened with garnish
and trees boasted dancing lights
as gifts were sought and bought, a
soul roamed the streets; low hung the head
that carried it, miserable with mourning
in grief of a body decomposed.

If anyone noticed no one cared; or dared
to ask if the lowly soul was okay.
If anyone had it would have broken down in tears
and cried for an angel to remove its heartache
and cried for a miracle to return its happiness.

Sensations of love that had ebbed and flowed
through that soul, natural as the seas tide, in a
turn of the moon and sun did cease and
the twinkling eyes that had warmed roaming soul
were instantly, and for all eternity eclipsed.
That scarred the soul deep, beyond repair. 

If anyone noticed no one cared; or dared
to ask if the lowly soul was okay.
If anyone had it would have broken down in tears
and cried for an angel to remove its heartache
and cried for a miracle to return its happiness.

As love ebbed forever, left that soul in pain;
to sleep it cried itself for ages
until at last this day, the soul took out to sea.
No angel came to rescue it, no miracle was had.
Its body the sea swallowed; like lead sunk
that soul so fast, a wonder it was ever here.

If anyone noticed no one cared; or dared
to ask if the lowly soul was okay.
If anyone had it would have broken down in tears
and cried for an angel to remove its heartache
and cried for a miracle to return its happiness.


And some may stop now, the Christmas carve
and wonder could no one prevent the young soul
falling prey to a thing so old and common as love,
the thought though soon removed by Christmas cheer.
Had the soul been able it would have cried, it loved
its love to death; and death is such a final state.


©shpix 2007