Identity Crisis

I think I've found it:
the hole in my heart,
the soul that ran out.
I don't know where it's been hiding,
or when it left route;
But I think it's here now-
no more roaming about.
The sickness inside,
and the empty, unfound-
it's all gone now,
so the life can resound.
And the roots have been dug
with a labor, surreal;
And the seeds are now planted
in hopes they'll appear.
But I think I've discovered
my soul that dissappeared.

2-19-09
12:19 P.M.