On the way to help a poor man,
Are the ways you'd remember your grieving soul.
On the same sizzling sand that made your feet dance,
Now make you run away in hopes of fleeting purpose.
A man of no title—a man of nothing,
Becomes a mere ghost when forgotten.
Digging up the feedings from the past—
Ghost villages enforced by no man.
No man but you:
The Grieving Soul.
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Author:
miLITAtion (
Offline) - Published: February 25th, 2024 04:44
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 8
Offline)
Comments1
Your poem vividly explores the dualities of life—altruism and personal struggle, purpose and identity. It's a powerful reminder of the complexities we face, the ghosts of our past, and the quest for meaning. Keep shining light on these profound human experiences!
Thank you for your time reading it and commenting! It's truly appreciated, and I'm glad you were able to hit the nail on the head regarding the writing's interpretation 😀
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