A Bridge's Soul

I stand on a bridge;
It sings a lullaby of lost souls.
It battles with memories
and watches the world carry on.

What a show these memories put on.
It was their unknown stage,
their moment of ignorant glory
in a world that holds no life for sure.

I stand on a bridge
that conceals cries no one has ever heard,
which people ignored, busy and unaware,
where there were salty tears fed the angry ocean.

What a life this bridge has had,
watching the untold tales of people falling into their own hatred
and drowning in their fear and substantial doubts,
or to watch them enter a world that is not visible to our eyes.

I stand on a bridge
that holds the only memory of what once existed,
which is haunted by the emotions set there like time bombs
that are waiting for their moment to explode.

What it must be like to be something so abused,
to have stronger forces corrupt your purity,
to feel a life slip away,
and to be powerless and without control.

I stand on a bridge
whose rusty railings are finished and tired.
I stand on a bridge that has seen so much, yet reveals so little.
I stand on a bridge that is so innocently guilty.

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