All my words meant nothing,
and nothing doesn't echo
but your voice carries.
When it is all on me.
Never wanted you.
To feel this way.
Now and forever.
The silence is silent.
Silence the silence.
Seems momentary
from years gone by.
And seconds I held
forever now.
But why does it repeat
until I get it right?
When I didn't feel
this wrong about anything?
So long. So gone.
As every sand castle built.
When silence is sweet,
or too quiet.
And my writings empty
from a filled page.
Come and find peace in it.
So long. So gone.
All my etchings in the whispering woods.....
to die down.
How do I make amends
with my own shadow
when he is counting
on me to succeed him?
All too quiet on this total frontier.
- Author: ReflectionShadow (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: August 5th, 2020 00:12
- Comment from author about the poem: Church mice, and western frontiers I suppose.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 33
Comments1
solitude is never daunting, if our mind continues to meditate and seek answers to those questions: too raw to be voiced
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