Lost Soul

My lost soul, my deep inside,
Why falling into your stormy darkness?
Why shouting your pain shadowy?
The Indifference kills outwardly
the healthy spirits of common gensis
through a clear zephyr of sufferings

By harp a miraculous lullaby playing are
love and dialogue
this sort of inexistent communication
away dragging are
their notes
sweeping
among these social individuals
a perceptive peace

Unveiling my self
suffocated by
such a grey-reddish cloudy Yorkshire weather
its atmosphere embodies my mystified demon
may get my staggering soul
fluttered down
lost
on the wings of my doubts
over this wild European life

I could see a rustling of senselessness
when rushing I glanced at millions of
ragged mendicant women
the paria
the Indian victims
cast with their littles into the arms on the ground,
, alàs, begging for a bowl of rice
for rupies.

They are actually named Lost souls, are they?
Hers Suffering all one of
Hers spiritual wholeness
all one of
Hers infectiously Sicked World