Languid
Wholeness of our bodies
have surrendered. Now made up
of only bones and flesh
No mystic, No divine
The constant mind
will never rest
The rebirth will
be lost
leaving your soul as a shadow
quickly hitting the shade
Painful as a mother losing
a child
an unborn soul will mourn;
wishing to set off
but trapped under a rock.
Copyright © Frank Guglietta | Year Posted 2013
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