A voice so empty,
Echoes, faint and petty.
Haunting my mind, causing me soreness,
Moving me further towards the brink of blackness.
In a lively crowd, voices dancing,
Loneliness drifts quietly, glancing.
Hope, that shone brightly, fall down with grace,
Tears walk bare, tracing paths on my face.
My eyes see nothing but endless night,
A smile painted on, but never quite right.
Every breath is heavy, suffocating in fear,
But death itself becomes too close too near.
Life is frost, a bitter wither
Makes me wonder if spring will ever glitter.
Or am I doomed to a perpetual winter,
Where destiny fades, growing colder, dimmer.
Sorrowful echoes render me lifeless, Hanging in the dark, perpetually tireless.
And I am not able to rest in dying or living,
While the world strides on, my frost forever denying.
YOU ARE READING
Whisper in the echoes of rain
PoetryThese poems are an exploration of the quiet moments that often go unnoticed. They delve into the emotions that linger in the shadows, the thoughts that echo in silence, and the feelings that are often left unspoken. Each verse captures a fragment of...
