Empty Shadows

That turmoil.
The clamour of forbidden desires.
All floating in the air.
Save me!
Empty shadows. Devoid of light.
Bare trees, snapped in two.
Save me. Another voice drifts from afar.
I am here! Do not forget me!
Time's destiny is held captive in chaos's grip.
A star, far away,
hidden behind a dark, grey cloud,
gazes down, twinkling, at the turmoil below.
Soft tears roll onto the earth,
while the waking trees remain thirsty.
The clamour of fear rises above all other sounds.
Save me!
The claws of fear have seized the withered garden.
That voice persists through the night
until the break of dawn,
permeated by the clamour of the day;
a voice soft yet terrifying,
faint yet resonant,
hollow yet powerful.
It is the voice of constant fear,
circling the broken garden.