Lamenting Spirit

Written by: Joshua Brown

Seemingly standing alone,
In the shadows of doubt and fear,
Lost, cold, forgotten,
Cold is the grasp of death that nears

Seeking a hand in darkness of solitude,
Wishing for nothing but a love,
Turned away, cast aside, borne not even a stray, lone thought,
Towering aloft, looked down upon from far above

Throned so high overhead, just as kings of old,
Glared down upon, a lowly tear forsaken so,
Caught within a trap, drowning, mists of sorrow,
A voice unheard, a voice deserted, only a voice in woe

Wandering such great, forlorn paths,
A derelict mind harshly beat, a mind that has since long been vacant,
Rove, this neglected child does,
One mind among so many, outcast, this dolor mind abeyant.