Broken Soul

From the depths of my soul,
deep in my being lies a wounded
child who cries to be heard.
Muffled by the pain and heartache
of yesterday's past.
Torched and bleeding, limped
back deep into the wells of my
being only to never surface.

Fading in the Mist

My Turn.....

If I see it...I reach behind me 

looking for it, 

but it's fading fast in the mist.

Seeing it Clearer

Clearly, Clearly seeing it all much to my amazement.
I wasn't able to before.
The mist kept me short-sighted.
As the fog lifted, it's clearer.

Photo by: Alice Christin (thank you, Alice)