25 August, 2011

my wounded soldier

where does it come from
the hope that moves you
the optimism
to see life so merrily,
so tirelessly,
without any weight on
your soul.
the feelings and hopes and the loves
that you carry around.
like a wounded soldier
ready to breathe life in a
dead country's soul.

where in your soul,
does it persist,
to exist, the happiness,
the peace, the quest for
a forever,
for what you dream in
your mind's eye,
hoping you will, someday,
be there.

where is it that
you head in this manner,
my wounded soldier,
carrying those burdens
of feelings, of hopes,
in the quest of
love alone.

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