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Echo
Like a repeating voice that whispers in my mind, I can see the images of life vaguely as it repeats itself to me
Themselves, is what I said, what I thought, as I forged it in my life, forcing it to be what I thought what was to be,
My past motion is like an old story, only a few have read and stepped in its path, creating something for the future to be talked about again,
A I wondered away to note this, in what would be forever, I thought of presents picture, a perfect life, that was only a wishers dream,
Could I play life like a harp, with such soft sweet music, coming from every note I strike, or could I walk it on hot burning coals, with hunger and hurt that says this is your motion, as I walk in its foot prints,
Alone I sought out peace, comfort played no role at all, my friend as I write this I crawl into distance, on a dark cloud that moves me like a hawk, soaring,
I begged to be saved, to be held, awaken from hell, echo me life, save me from all writing pages which ink has not yet stained,
From a distance, I role play this strangers life, who looks like me, acts like me, but yet the two hearts have not yet met, estranging words in a echoed sentence.
Alone I saw a halo, an angelic image, a picture that did not seem display me in its painted world,
Again life echoed, you seem not to know, you,
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