Worn Through The Soul

Soul Poetry

Like an old shoe

that took one too many steps,

I am overused and beaten up.

Exhaustion, has become

the constant companion

to my pain.


never leaving my side,

they trail me all the way.

I'm too tired

to keep up this trudging,

this pace of death.

I only wish to pause awhile,

for weariness has overcome

and agony, ever-present.

Mind, body and soul

are threadbare and worn through

to the edges of an already frayed sanity.

They say, 'no rest for the weary'

and I'm more than convinced

of its truth.

I just want to sleep.

I just want to relax.

I just want it all to end.

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