The Decorticated Soul

 

The last convulsion was a drag

All the pain indicative of

Life, it may not feel pleasant

But at least

It feels like something

 

The damage imprinted on the soul

Like lines etched into the bark of a tree

The clouds are wounded and

The sky threatening

The stars provide no protection for thee

 

Trumpets bemoan a song for the weary

But it falls on deaf ears

We care only for the souls departed

Or for those who barely exist

 

The evening opens a wound

An all-encompassing agony

That neither heals nor gives solace to

The forgotten and misguided souls

 

The scars will shape you

Like a man of clay

The walls may surround you

But the kiln doors have not yet shut

 

Perambulate the burning forest

The eyes will keep the body safe

Remember to tread softly

For the hour is getting late

Reviews

[SilentVerses]

Love the parallels made between the darkened twisted story within and the entwining images of nature you bring forth with your gorgeous words. Adoration flows as your desolate emotions are found within the elements. A beautiful blossoming emotion blooms and the petals open to show and encompass an array of haunting harrowing sorrow. Beautiful dark and twisted an eerie melody with overlaying harmonies becomes the air around your words making them gleam.

[Lily Mae]

This made my heart hurt..for real.. I could feel this..Your description is so detailed and intensely perfect..
And one thing I notice about your work is how you use your last stanza to nail the thoughts and bring them home to the reader.. I love your technique in writing..xx

[ScaryTrees]

truth here
very well done with nice flow and resonance

"We care only for the souls departed
Or for those who barely exist"

we are blind to one another and apathy pervades


nice

[Dushyant Thadani]

You have got a serious command in language... This is actually so descriptive and so interesting to read... Great job...