The trees are losing their leaves and The soul is losing its belief
Its power comes and goes like the sprites in the cold midnight days
It's becoming weak and weak until there is no one to believe
The seasons will come and leave and so do the leaves
The wounds and the memories will always remain the same to finally make that soul leaves .
Soul
Rania Bouri
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 03/22/2020
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Poem topics: believe, power, cold, remain, belief, soul, weak, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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