On Echo
Sound waves' reflection
Words in repetition
This is the cicatrix
Only time could fix.
Echoes are my scars
That travels afar
Made by wounded voices
For others are noises.
Heartbreaks retold
On echoes so called
Marked when uttered
Whenever remembered
But I remained silent
The love that I've spent
Aches more when I cry
Still there 'til I die
So bad but was great
The echoes I create
Hurt but then learned
For lessons I've yearned.
Copyright © Hansteven Selfa | Year Posted 2015
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