Purpose

The pounding of my soles across the dirty grounds,

Loud, with the song of birds, the wicked sounds.

Trees discard their feathers, and they fall my way.

With my rhythm of the winds their branches sway. 

I try to find my way into the light inside my chest,

Into the mean machine that beats without a rest. 

Night time’s fading fast, the stars are shutting down,

Another day has past, and again, I lay with just a frown.

Morning seems to come, perhaps a better day? 

What can be in store for me? Oh that I cannot say. 

The pounding of my soles across the dirty grounds,

Loud, with the song of birds, the most wicked sounds.

Feathers from trees, they fall upon my path,

I must solve my life’s equation, simple, like math.

I am here for what? For what was I created?

What was the reason as to why your bodies mated?

Night time seems to fade, the stars are going down,

Another day has past, and still, I carry just a frown.