Soul

The halls of dreaming are fading slowly,
as the disembodied soul makes it way back home.
To the daily routine of its boring life,
living in a fragile shell caught in a web of lies.

A soul that looks out on clouded windows,
viewing the world pale in its sleeping state.
Only when the night comes do the lights shine bright,
and restless souls pour from graying walls in delight.

Escaping from the cacophony of sounds and
nightmares,
rushing to the solitude of its secluded sanctuary.
This soul lounges in quiet bliss
emptying its mind from worry’s kiss.

-Little Ink Elf 031413-