This Mask

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A meandering soul at the end of the road, with no one to turn to and no where to go.

Submitted: January 31, 2008

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Submitted: January 31, 2008

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The world is quiet and the night is still
Through the streets I walk, in the air a chill.
 
There’s no one around now, no one to ask
Alone in my sorrow, wearing this mask.
 
How do I get out of this torment and grief
To find some salvation, to get some relief.
 
Is this what life’s come to, a meandering soul?
No where to run to, staring into a black hole.
 
I hear life and laughter through a door that I pass
It disappears as I walk on, not my life alas.
 
It’s too late now it seems my time has come
The feelings run wild and my heart does succumb.
 
No reason to look forward with aspirations to flow
Just a faint heart that’s fading with sorrowful woe.
 
So it’s to you Lord I turn to with a question to ask
Has the time come now..... to remove this mask?
 


© Copyright 2017 Brian Peza Perrins. All rights reserved.

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