Death Knell

A saccharine rueful cry rode upon the wind, not a howl but a solemn ceaseless wail of tears whispering a last bell's ring, peal and tolling goodbye; a farewell to blended melancholic images and visions that once permeated the echoing halls and corridors where voices rang a rhythmic haunt of point and purpose. Now only the mournful chimes ring out blending into one solitary hum of shrill vibrations when heores fall and memories grow hollow and short; their now inaudible representation fading for those left to enviously follow or others to willingly ignore the footsteps. Imprinted on the breeze the aureole of brillint sun begins to fade and history inadequately records the garbled sounds; time passing, inconceivable kaleidiscope discolorations the venerated celibacy of thought expunged by inherent truism of the amulets of freedom. Tremulous and tender the pedantic strident sings loudly and the ooze of the death knell tolls ineptly sings, straining the ear to open, hear, listen to the reverberations; the anthologic repository rigid, closes, locks in the wind, while the alcove resounds indulgent in unequivocal silence definitive climatic acknowledgement, the knell secured and muffled. 8/26/18 Edward ibeh's Wind Chimes contest also, in honor of John McCain's passing.