I felt it was proper to start out my first blog witha poem that i wrote a few years ago, but in some ways still explains me.
A soul crys out into the night.
To find its perfect match,
the light.
Its crys are nothing more than an unheard call.
Dispair tightens it grip,
as tears begin to fall.
Happiness has long since fell behind.
Its an unending search,
yet cannot grasp a soul in which to bind.
A true measure of a soul is in its deepth.
Although the soul is hidden,
its pain is as easy to see as its death.
