The desert of my soul

SSGStripped of all flesh and bare to the bone.

– alone in the tundra,

gelid winds cut like a sharpened stone.

Oh, the unbearable pain of the exposed, tortured soul.

Forever split between that and this world

harsh is the path

of the one that is torn.

The wanderer wonders, deprived of all hope

is it even possible

to bring forth new growth?

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8 thoughts on “The desert of my soul

  1. I don’t know Claudia … I don’t 😦
    But to ask that question indicates a desire … and a desire for growth shows me there is a remnant of hope that can grow.

    Beautifully poetry my friend.

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