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Decrepit Soul
April 23, 2012
In the corner of a dank room
Lies a fragile defeated body
Clothed in dirty, worn rags
His dead eyes hidden from sight.
A weakened skeleton is easily seen
From this soul curled in the room,
Away from the loving light of day
Sealed in a sarcophagus of despair.
Dried tears lay under his mask
As rust grows upon his chains;
Fed just enough to slow his death
Hopes of freedom are alive in vain.
The bloodied soul's regal keeper
Steps slowly in the room
And greets the broken child
By name, "Hello there, happiness"
© Yisrawayl G., Philadelphia, PA
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