Entrapped By a Mind

I sat wondering,

What had bestowed this feeling of utter failure and hopelessness upon my soul?

My soul, which I held in such high regards as being good, at least in intentions, but lacking in action.

My soul, entrapped by a mind and a heart caged in steal.

If the body and mind were kept busy, the soul could be forgotten,
But it would remain when time allotted that it breath again.

Yet its breathe was not one of relief.

It was not that of an occupant’s who found that a window could be opened in the middle of a scorching night.

The breath was less of an inhale of a cool breeze, but more so a screech,
A screech exiting the body against its owner’s will.

I could no longer silence my soul.

My inner being that looked at its current state and only suffered the loss of time with stagnation.

The problem was not that it screeched, for I felt it necessary to speak up,
But that the piercing sound could not be translated.

The body remained a carrier of a soul trapped by the mind.

What did it want?

Need?

What would silence it not through task but through sincere pleasure and gratitude?

So it remained, in a body looking at the world through darkened eyes searching for a reason, a mere sign, a purpose, that could let it breath through an opened window in the middle of a scorching night.