My Soul, it seems

Yearns differently than those that surround me

My eyes look upon what they look, but I do not see as they do.

I listen to the same words, but I do not hear as they do.

The essense of what is within me does not respond

To superficiality as they tell me it should

And though I wear this mask of conformity so they may confide in me...

It is not the words of their tongue that I seek

I seek the scent of a soul like my own

A soul to share me thoughts with

Behind the guise of conversation

A soul to whisper secrets with

Without making a single sound

The days that have passed have told me

That no such soul exists,

But let not hopelessness ensue

For I have discovered in these isolated years

That such comforts are only found

In the shade of my Lord.