Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Old Soul

Out of the mists of ancient times
A whisper wafts on the winds of fate
And settles like a well worn care
In my soul.

With it's zodiac cry, and siren lullaby
Singing as mournfully as a childless mother
Keening it's tale into my being, relentlessly
Crushing my heart.

Bringing memories of the darkness
The deepest pain known to mankind
And the sorrow of a world aging
To unknown death...

What is this broken song?
Whose are these lingering words?
Are they somehow, inevitably
Forever a part of me?

This inspiration of hopelessness
The drive to give up the fight for now
Because the past has conquered the future
The present is destined?

Surely this cannot be the message of the old soul
For I have come to love another
And in this one lifetime, what love have I
That can withstand time?

So speaks the old soul into my fragile frame
This mortal host in which I live, for now
Until the next life, and next love,
Carry me away.