Alone with my soul

I drove five-hundred miles
In timeless mountains

From hurt that haunts me
What has not yet come

I did not escape the hurt
And found more of what I am not

I remain alone
Next to a vacated silhouette
In the shadow void
Suspended in nothing
By nothing

Although my child cries
I do not sell my soul

Five-hundred miles
To make it home
To the darkness
Where I sleep

Alone with my soul

© 2014 Martin H. Wilde

2 thoughts on “Alone with my soul”

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