Justifying Life

It is not the red blood, spilt upon the earth, of past lives that justifies this one.
Nor is it the dust of old bones, in long forgotten ancient graves.
Archaic script carved into time worn stones and fading ink bounded within blessed covers, each whisper of the whys for the trial of life.
Scholars and priests try to make reason of them both to no avail.
Perhaps the answer lies in an unfulfilled dream, an unanswered wish, or in the pain that a lonely heart saves?
Carried from one mortal internment to another.
A weighted burden the soul seeks to release.
The justification for life is found when one's soul bleeds. In the blood of the soul.
In tears.