Treasure Island

Annalee Hopkins Somerville


Wandering Soul


I travel the Earth and the astral plains,
I’ve lived most my life in guilt and shame,
Shame for the life bestowed on to me,
Guilt for the demons I couldn’t set free.

I saw the horse prints in the sand,
I was stuck in travel of no man’s land,
The sand was hot and the sun was high,
I had to keep going but wanted to die.

The minutes turned to deathly hours,
Shallowly Cactus’ no sign of flowers,
Every grain of sand seemed my encumber,
No sign of rain no sounds of thunder.

I travel for days in search of a vision,
My soul it carries many incisions,
Incisions of darkness, incisions of light,
I’m a tortured soul that welcomes the night.

I try to reach many but only a few will hear,
The sound of my voice or my footsteps near,
I travel in the shadows of days and nights,
I try to step over and cross into the light.

I am dreary and my energy hardly glows,
I’m what you call a lost and wandering soul,
Drifting over the hills and across the plains,
No one see’s me or knows my name.

© 2011 Wind Songs Spiritual Poetry

Submitted: Monday, October 17, 2011
Edited: Thursday, November 03, 2011

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