The Gravedigger came calling, he found me one night.
He said “Girl what are you doing, out at this time?”
“I am looking for my soul. I lost long ago. I thought I might find It… in the valley down below.”
~ It’s been blown far away, twisted and bent, thrown down a hole and lost to the wind.
~ It’s been traded for pennies, bought on a whim, carried on horseback and given as a gift.
~ It’s been thrown into prison, called a liar and a thief.
~ It’s been taken cross countries, it’s found no relief.
~ It’s been rejected, denied, betrayed and damaged.
…I’m afraid I don’t know, if much is left to carry.
The Gravedigger ask me, “Why do you want such a wretched soul? If you want I’ll take, don’t worry, I know just where it goes.”
I said, “Not tonight, no, I’m not ready to be buried. I think I’ll stay a little longer, mend some pieces, try and put things back together. See it may be ugly, bruised, worn down and damaged… But to me it’s the last thing I have to hold on to and cherish.”