LOST
These are my upset years,Where I find my equinox.
Within a mindful soul,
That feels forever locked.
Can I feel synapsis flailing,
Inside my conscious self.
There's no I left in my id,
For in limbo is where I drift.
There is no saving a mortal soul,
When the soul recoils at doing so.
For how can you look into a mirror,
When you can no longer find yourself.
As I enter into the fold,
There's many more stories to be told.
If only I can find my ethereal self again,
Then self awareness could be attained.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2023-06-05 at 00:32
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