Poetry From The Weakened Soul
Author: Neil Evans

Chapter 143
Old, Poor Soul

Unleashed, released,
I will not be deceased.
You can't understand,
Lend me a helping hand.
The war's breaking out,
My mind can't sustain
It's basic need to retain
Information and I feel
Lost in this endless rhyme.
Timeless, and without
Years aging it, my soul
Spills forth into words,
My heart exploding
As your needles puncture
My skin and I hear
My body snap in half.
Dead and lost, you can't
Say you tried, because
It's plain to see
The only one to help
This old, poor soul
Was me.


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