Indelible Wounds

Shame! shame! shame!

My soul has fallen—

not once, not twice, but thrice!

Always to the same soul.

What does it hold,

this soul I chase?

but it keeps longing—

keeps waiting.

Just as time

began to heal—

almost a year and a half,

then, a message.

my soul was stuck again.

stood frozen in its past.

That soul spoke lightly,

a friendly exchange—

but my soul shattered.

Now, silence lingers.

Now, my soul clings

to echoes of a conversation

long ended.

So it chooses celibacy,

but even that,

it knows,

is forbidden.

Too tired 

Too drained 

Too familiar

with the same battle.

mind whispers:

"Your soul is not meant for that Soul"

And yet—

Shame! Shame! Shame!