Wandering Souls
Wandering souls near fields and lakes, remembering about the time they lived.
Hoping they’d get another chance, and would they be forgiven?
Death is something that destroys the place where a soul lives.
Leaving a soul to wander in another reality and in the bleak and bitterly cold place where the joy never dwelled within.
Wandering souls near the park benches and bookstores, wishing to live again, look at the most attired beauties.
But do they know that living is the hardest and death is an escape?
Wandering souls near the schools and the streets,
looking at the people they’d promise to spend forever with.
But all they feel is empty because their existence now is just a myth.
Wandering souls in denial for a little while,
Accepting their own fate, knowing the earth has wrapped their body and decayed it into pieces, destroying all the love and emotions buried within it.
Wandering souls near fields and lakes,
remembering the faded memories of the time when they lived.
Knowing they won’t get another chance and that they’ve already been forgotten with it.
-prath
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