Descent Into Oblivion
What is a voice a voice but empty sounds?
Though music pleasantly resounds,
The droning, listless voice of death,
Speaks to you with every breath.
When time is come to listen well,
It gets louder, starts to swell.
And when the sound is overbearing,
No longer anyone is caring.
So once more living in your past,
The flow of life drains from you fast.
Copyright © Syd Floyd | Year Posted 2009
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