When the moon is out and all is numb,
I whisper to the dead.
I tell to them all of my fears.
Though they cannot hear what I have said.
I weep away my silent sorrows in cries of help no one can hear.
All alone I lay in bed as their ashes blow amidst the wind.
I only wish that they could hear me.
I wish to be let in.
Though my voice is much too hushed for they know that I have sinned.
-Whispers To The Dead.
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Written By evalicie