Prisoner of My Soul

I can see your eyes veiled by mere helplessness
of the weird and unwanted selflessness.
Your body spreads in shadows,
my mind, by the mere thought of you, wallows.

And as dead as prisoner might look on its sentenced day,
your look, correspondent, shows no hope to find another way.
And as you struggle silently smothered, by unseen weight,
it is I who devoured you, it is I who your soul ate.

And although love is what I call my chant,
it is I who your devotion attain can’t.
And I lose you, without knowing
of the end of your graceful smile
and a ghoul of pure numbness
walks aimlessly for miles.

And although I can’t fix what my obsession has done,
and although I can’t ask for the past to come,
I have but one gratifying sensation…
that you the Prisoner of My Soul,
shall be a queen in my coronation.

Contributor: Andrea Arias
Featured Image: Noell S. Oszvald

Copyright © 2013 Andrea Arias. All Rights Reserved.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s