When a situation seeps in,
It’s replaced by something else.
Numbness.
So we cut off from this world,
And dive into another.
So many things,
Obstruct that path.
Thinking they have our goodness in mind.
But they are just obstacles,
To be crossed.
And what they say,
Is of no consequence to a lost soul.
Let things run its course,
Even if the course leads to isolation,
Or sensory deprivation.
So even though July brings us rain,
Floods our senses with hope,
The hope of cleansing our empty souls,
We still wait when July will come,
Not with pain,
But with sunlight,
From which this soul will gain.
So we wait,
Wait till that July comes.
