My soul is a misunderstanding,
Words that wander, aimless,
But alight on wings of wonder
Waiting for that which will give it purpose.
And my soul,
For which it wants,
For the soft praise of love,
To unravel that which has been tightly bound,
My soul feels,
For it is a child unaccustomed to the darkness
Swimming through scarlet oceans,
To proceed through the light
And be reborn,
For that is the adventure through which time passes,
And begins again.