Almost time for NaNoWriMo: Novel writing month in November.
Writing is all about a soul yearning for a reality that doesn’t exist. It seems to me. And those realities have a certain pull to them over our own. Such a pull we have to write them down. And this is the poem that came from that.
Soul Yearnings
My soul haunts a place,
It has never seen
It is ever displaced,
In the between.
I was made for a land
That doesn’t exist
My soul’s demand
Forever missed.
Soon, time to get lost in that world I have created and see what comes of it.
Other Poems:
The Wyrd 
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