The Soul

irebzbreathemusic:


Like a wound on the side

Like a thorn in the heart

Like the sweet, sad song sung by the dying lark

Like a fast, cheery brook

Running down the hill

Only to be frozen by winter’s first chill 

Like the foam on the tide of the miserable sea

Tear blinded eyes unable to see


Its hard to explain these secrets untold

And harder still to understand the pain of the soul.