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Death of Soul

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Death of Soul

Today, I felt my soul dying.
A cry of help could be heard 
But none could be seen crying
For they class my obsession as shallow and absurd.

Yet I carry on with my daily tasks
To work through this incomprehensible nightmare
Amongst those who carry a veil of emotional masks
Waiting, as those who Love, as those who care.

And I close my eyes to save my mind from this plight
To save my heart from recreating its surroundings
In the hope that others soon see the light
Actioned by those cast from different mouldings.

Slowly, but, steadily,
I can feel my soul dying.

Copyright © Pravir Dass

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