The scars of my soul

the scars of my soul,

no one will ever know but the true living god of my heart,

the scars are so ugly and decompose that the sound weigh down my toes,

the cut was deep, and the swelling left me batiquie

the rage was only claim, went I went though this storm

the smell of rotten meat was prolonged

the scratches were from the newborns

I wanted to sing my song, but the scars left me with a bad tone.

the scar on my soul was unknown,

even the doctor diagnoses was not shown.

acking, taking, not straighten bones

and constant pain that want leave me alone

you tell me is this not among the lifeless heart that;s strong,

I just want to go home,she morn

her whispering lips in a cone,

to weak to swaddle from a cup,

but all she could drink was this bad luck

hoping and wishing for some kind of sweet delight syrup

but every thing was dry and pail.

she felt dead, like the life had been strip from her,

taking the bumps and bruising,

lacking from all that loosing.

and abusing her mind from choosing

headaches of confusion,

and never the less dried up from them using her

staved by life's ups and down, which kept her  spinning around,

rob of peace,joy and happiness

she often was dis and left behind to die.

the part of which her scars had her bound.

but suddenly, one day she begin to hold her head up.

and them she smile.

she stood up like a child and the baby kiss her on the mouth

with his eyes on her flow, she look as if she was ready to go.

her strength was reveal, and she could finally move her limbs.

and she pray to god to revive her again