The Scales Of My Soul Poem by Brian Kilpatrick

The scales of my soul
Are an Archeological site
That has not been examined
From the start of time
How pain full are the wounds
That were inflicted by others
But how much more painful
Were those self-inflicted on my soul
The hammers of my mind
Chip away at an impenetrable vault
Of my soul
Protected by an unknown material
Of my hardened heart
Ever afraid to examine the contents
From which I cannot hide
For the truth rides through
The deep archeological tides
That scale my soul