Come to me

My soul is old. My body is young, but my soul is carrying the heavy burden of thousands of years. I am tired.

I'm calling out to you. You.

I don't know who you are. I don't know who I am, not anymore. I've lost my insight, my meaning in this damned existance. I've lost myself in the pointless every night hunting, the blood, the screams and the agony. My ears are ringing and my eyes hurt.

I can take no more. I can not go on without you.

My soul is old and wise. And it's calling out to you, I feel it, I HEAR it. Whoever you are. It yearns to be reunited with you once again, for an eyeblink of eternity. I can't remember your face, I can't remember your name. I can't remember your touch or your smile. You're lost in the extensive amount of memories.

But my soul remembers you.

It feels lost and lonely without you. It needs to feel needed once again, to explore the deep depths of you. It is tired of the world, the shallowness and the everlasting problems. It is tired of the hunting, the blood, the meaningless existance. The losses, the deaths, the wars. The pain and hurt.

It needs you. You, its oasis in the desert.

I call out to you. Whoever you are. Hear my call out into the night, let it reach you and touch the depths of your heart. Let it open your eyes and show you the way. Let it guide you through your long journey to me. Come to me.

Come to me.