A Piece of My Soul
A piece of my soul
Who am I?
A Muse or a Poet?
A Lyre or a Melody?
Or just a plain girl?
What do I see
A dream or a vision?
Or a harsh reality?
Don't know, really.
But do I not possess wings
to take me to the
Infinite Galaxies,
Depths of the oceans
Tips of the mountains and
Dunes of Deserts?
Yes, I do.
Do I not possess the faculty
To see, to feel, another's pain?
To empathise, to be of aid?
The heart to rejoice in
another's happiness, to share in their joy?
The imagination which fuels my spirit,
That gives rise to empathy?
Yes, I do.
And that is why I'm everything.
A Muse because I inspire my pen,
A Poet because I observe, I create.
A lyre because I am the instrument,
A melody because I am what I sing.
I dream, sometimes I fantasise,
Sometimes I imagine,
Yet without losing touch with the world.
I am but a plain girl,
Yet there is a piece of my soul,
In each word I put down.
And that makes me,
A light and winged and holy creature*
*Reference to the dialogue Ion by classical thinker Plato.
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