The Tormented Soul
Listen to the quiet..... listen my friend, to the stillness of the night.....do you hear? Do you hear the weeping of the tormented soul? Do you hear the anguish and torment of the damned?
The sorrows of a thousand yesterdays turn into the emptiness of a million tomorrows and always, always, there is the quiet.... and the solitude of thelost soul.
The lonely paths untaken, the journeys unknown....the endless roads where the only footprints are those that follow you. Where does the tormented spirit go for peace...for comfort... for love.
Bouquets of sorrows, songs and sonnets.... and you cry out to your God for answers...only to have the echoes of your cries bounce off the walls and disappear into nothingness. And you wonder.... is God asleep or maybe he has just forgotten.
Perhaps we are as Milton said, "Helpless sinners in the hands of an angry God."
And there are no answers, no faint whispers of truth, not even a dim light to guide you. There is only the meaningless of the now. Am I one of the damned...destined now become one of the lost...one of the wretched.... one of those who aimlessly wander through the bareness of existence.?
And no one knows.....and you play the role... and who you are expected to be...and do what you need to do... all the while withering and dieing... fading into oblivion...disappearing into nothingness.
*"Have you ever heard a Robin weep, as Autumn leaves begin to fall.... It means she has lost the will to live."