Wandering through the shadows of my soul,

I stagger with no sense of direction.

Nothing is real; all is not right.

Every decision—second guessed.

Eyes, blinded by the darts of evil.

Lust’s victory is Love’s demise.

Cries of hope echo through the void,

Which now occupies my being.

Every day, every chance,

Missed.

Love lies buried,

Deep under the shroud of defeat.

The soul that searches not,

Is the soul doomed for eternity.

Seek deep within thyself,

Before entering my realm.

Conscious of the inevitable pains,

Awaiting a fresh life to destroy.

Those longing warmth and comfort,

Seek the light that echoes within;

Leaving me behind, for I am long lost.

My cold heart is numb to their flame.

--Wes Kipler