• rustedknight 10w

    A poem I first wrote. Quite lengthy, but I hope someone reads it.

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    An old soul seeking asylum
    Wraiths of yore clung to him,
    Spewing poison into his mind.
    Yet he chose to walk,
    Every stride doleful.

    Sorrow was a companion, no matter how much he hated her.
    He understood he was broken, the moment he grasped the world.
    So he chose a mask, and hid in its bosom.
    Some distinguished him be endearing,
    But no soul could ever fathom,
    The gravity of his disposition.

    As naive as he was,
    His soul languished for amity.
    And thus he searched high and low
    Till it barely devoured his sanity.
    What does one do when one is trapped to one's own devices?
    He asked repeatedly.

    He tried every remedy he could find,
    Distractions, getaways and magic.
    Yet the high lasted short,
    And the low all too immense.

    Years have passed,
    And still, he searches.
    He's realized there's not always an answer.
    For every question one asks of the universe.
    He sits alone gazing into the distance.
    He finds comfort in little things,
    And clings to the flicker of the hope,
    That one day, he'll find an answer.
    And help guide souls,
    To what people call peace.