Echoes of Yesterday

The darkness gleamed amidst the hush.

Black twisted arms reached out to touch.

Shadows fell amongst the darkness gloom.

Voices wept; simple hearts cried, soon, oh soon.

No more, no more cried this the broken land.

Shall not no more these troubles withstand?

For whispers crawl like serpents in the night.

Ponderous are we upon confusion, losing sight.

Echoes of yesterday bounce on the broken wall.

Perpetual darkness is alas our final call.

Thus beseech now the crying land.

For the day…the hour is now at hand.

J. Allen Wilson © 2/17/2010