What happens to a soul deprived?

Does it freeze in its eternal tomb,

Or wait to erupt with flashes of fire?

Does it shatter into fragments,

Like a mirror of reflection,

When its destiny was deferred?

--

Maybe it rots with a stench so foul,

While dangling from a widow’s web,

Or does it twist to opposite ends,

Like the indecision to live?

--

But what happens then?

Does it suffocate to its last breath,

And harden like a sea star on the shore?

Does it break the body whole,

Or cripple the mind so fragile?

--

Maybe it becomes a whisper in the wind,

Clasping onto a single thread,

And praying for absolution

--

Or perhaps it soaks up the world’s scars,

Like a spirit full of anguish,

Waiting in darkness to be relieved