Without Spark

There’s always been

this pull.

I’ve always felt its tug,

from someplace beyond

the soul.

Something ancient,

something marinated,

something changing

places in time.

It’s more than gravity

yet, far more subtle.

It collects like dust 

shimmering in the 

rays of light when 

they blanket the Aura—

It leaves behind invisible 

traces, it hides behind many

faces, it reaches into the

deepest places left behind

in the dark.

Where only the nameless

hurt exists. 

Depression ignites without

spark…