My Cold Soul

Like a moth drawn
to the devils dance,
my cold soul: entranced.

Unable to resist
the heat of the flame singed,
as were many fools before me.

History repeats,
I cannot feel intense emotions
or any others.

Now, I must hide,
grotesque to all eyes,
endless hours have I,

to over-analyse
what it must be like to feel
what a life was once like,

the fire long gone out,
memories
where sold that day.

The chill is back
but I cannot be entranced
there is no heat,

there are no feelings
only a shell of where
a human once was.

Two thousand years from now
someone might wonder
what made her feel that way?

-L.J. Lenehan-

cold soul

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4 thoughts on “My Cold Soul

  1. From the opening stanza, LJ, I was drawn in like a moth to a flame. I have been reading through a few of your poems and they are all lovely, especially powerful in their honesty about your feelings. And I want to thank you for your visits to my blog.

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