Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash
The soul strives blindly
groping a path lacking an end.
Perhaps a star shining kindly,
But not enough to fix or mend.
-
Light a long forgotten kin,
With slight memories of its task.
But nothing now is as it's been,
And there's no joy from which to ask.
-
It falls only to go on groping,
To a destiny unknown.
Never ceasing its silent moping,
when the star has lightly grown.
-
Still, I praise it for its crawling,
through battle, blood and war.
For how its light's forever calling,
who knew a star can be a door?
About the Creator
Rachel Steinmetz
Written expression is emotion at its peak; delve into it.



Comments (2)
that last line is soooooooooo goood! Love it!
This is such a beautiful poem. I love it.