Soul-Less Poem by Lawerence Mize, Sr.

Darkness creeps across my lids
heavy with the burden of time.
Tightly closed I block the sun
and think of better times.

Times when death was not around
nor shouts of war my only sounds.
I drift into a blackened void
and smell the sweetened air.

Flowers sprout as I take it in
a cool fresh wind beats my brow.
I think of all the faceless forms
fight the urge to howl.

This journey through life
an exhausting feat.
Traveled more in mind...
than road.

You end up
a soul-less shell.
And nothing
more to show.