Lost Souls

Each time I stood there
Mesmerized at the pieces of my shattered heart
As they all scattered and dance in the wind
Begging for me to chase them and to find them

Yet how could I
When I, myself felt lost
To this agonizing misunderstood moment that taunted me
One that was full of wonder and charm

As enchanting as the moon
But as dark as the night sky
How could I bring myself to wander alone
For that piece of me that belonged to another

I felt so weak
For anger was my only companion
And sorrow drowned my misguided soul in a sea of bitterness

Still, I endured and searched for what was not mine

Although in time it all became, sort of vain
Or more so I lack the motivation
Because the memories started to fade
With the well of tears that soon dried up

Therefore, I cast away what was left of my grief
So that I could smile at the thought of creating something new
To find paradise… to find…

…Where birds may fly, and where the clouds may drift
A wanderer may wander, although one is not always lost.
Isn’t it amazing…you know…the way in which we tend to stumble.

Perhaps this is our imperfection,
And it would seem life can be made more beautiful because of it


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  1. Where birds may fly, and where the clouds may drift
    A wanderer may wander, although one is not always lost.

    Very powerful and meaningful verse. Well penned 🙂

  2. An emotional loss can wound you like a .357 to the gut, & yes, it takes some down time, some doctoring, some rebuilding, before we can open those doors of heart sanctum yet again. Nice piece.

  3. Amazing indeed, the ways we stumble, and how we wander though we are not lost…
    a mesmerising poem, ultimately hope triumphant.
    I was just wondering if you'd missed out an 'I' in the line:
    How could (I) bring myself to wander alone

  4. A dark night.. eyes no longer
    tolerating light.. street
    lights as bright
    as sun..
    through shades
    of eyes.. in body
    grown cold with
    tattered jacket..
    in mid-July..
    yet i will
    this darker
    room to
    walk.. where is
    truth.. who am i..
    all alone.. no connection
    is there.. but yes.. a spark
    after 5 years or so comes..
    a tear it is.. and that
    one tear
    is now
    an ocean
    of me.. where
    now hope lives
    with no search..
    there are steps
    to walk..
    and now
    me as

  5. To find where clouds may drift…as we stumble imperfectly along…..indeed this can be AMAZING. Love the hope and beauty in this poem….not all is lost for souls that continue stumbling!

  6. What a wonderful poem! Those things that make us stumble, indeed, cast them away and hang on to the hope. In spite of it all, at the end you write of hope and that is beautiful. Hayes Spencer is Kanzensakura

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