My soul shouts from the void where it lays entrapped
It stresses my mind to let it free
But who knows the weary state of my weary soul
For my soul lays entrapped, inside of me.
It dreams of grey skies and rustling leaves
Of the wind that'll sweep it off it's feet
Of rainbows that light up the sky on a dry dull day
Of the things it'll see, lest I set it free.
It hears the laughter of little children
As they scramble across the crowded streets
And hears the chirping of little birds
As they prattle about the willow tree.
It imagines the plight of the blue sky
As it splits from the branches of various trees
And the thoughts of selfless, open umbrellas
Who take lashes from raindrops at their masters' plea.
My mind's always gathering it's scattered thoughts
Doing so, all the time, it remains busy
So how will it fulfill my soul's request
For that too, is a thought scattered, inside of me.