A soul once pure, now wounded and worn,
By the trials and tribulations of life's storm.
The heart, once full of hope and light,
Now heavy with sorrow, and weighed down by night.

The mind, once clear, now clouded and gray,
As the world's cruel hand has shaped and molded away.
The spirit, once free, now bound by chains,
As the wounds of the past refuse to heal and remain.

But even in the midst of pain and despair,
A glimmer of hope, a beacon to guide and repair.
For though the soul may be wounded, it is not lost,
For in the depths of sorrow, there lies a strength to be found.

let us embrace the wounded soul within,
And let the healing power of love begin.
For though the scars may remain, they will not define,
As the soul, once wounded, now rises, renewed and divine.
© 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑑 2024.
All rights reserved.