Inner Fiber Of The Soul

R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
0 Altın Yaprak
Inside is a numbness, vast, expanding through body and mind, there are no special reasons to be found. On an outer dimension, spheres of blankness envelope the entirety of being. Feeling absolutely nothing, gaining no insight, troubled a little, wondering what is going on. Triumphing bequested by another is not beginning, as solitary abidement adjusts itself to fit an irregular mold. Thoughts are floating in space, away, unable to be touched, somehow the entire universe has turned it's back and left, on forsaken shores now, alone and lost. Feelings cannot be conjured within, special talents can only reproduce inner life once known. Walking around inside, emptiness fills and goes beyond, finding dedication and responsibility are dying on the sand, a desert has been placed inside this being. Nomadic traits, touching no one, holding nothing of value, brought forward to face the truth of unbelievable sadness. Tearing apart inner fibers of the soul, wanting peace to reconcile with it's being. Lightly blowing, reaching beyond life, leading sandstorms, blindingly forcing everyone to the sides of streets and by- ways. There are no votes of confidence, betrayal of the very essence has been begun and finished, showing the sorrow self has become, tears I am made of, opened up, being at once completely washed away.

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