What becomes of a tortured soul,
Uncovered from the past.
Do regrets fade with time,
Or strong enough to last.
What becomes of a tortured soul,
Exposed again to light.
Can the wrongs of yesterday,
Be once again set right.
What becomes of a tortured soul,
Risen from the mire.
Can they ever rest in peace,
Their deepest hearts desire.
Until they find the answer,
They stand there, arms flailing.
Although not a sound is heard,
They’re eternally wailing.
What becomes of a tortured soul.....
A poem inspired by the tree in this photo.
For me the branches of the tree looked liked arms flailing giving the impression of a writhing person.
Any critique/constructive criticism welcome.
Updated 26/4/08, last paragraph added.
Rosalie Dale IPA, 5 months ago
Wow. You should put the two together Dave – powerful.
Rae Stanton, 5 months ago
you know david, i rarely read any of the writing on redbubble (for no real reason other than i’ve barely got time to look at all the images!!) but your poem is so relevant to how i am feeling right now … it’s as if you have somehow snuck inside my psyche. thank you.