The Echo Returns Not

Memories wound like shards of shrapnel exploding through the restless night bursting into jagged slivers like broken glass, leaving a heart wretched and contrite. Ears strained to hear voices crying from somewhere within the dark beyond, the place lying between emptiness and sighing but not one echoing refrain responds Not a single word from the void spoken Silence takes a ransom toll on emotions There's not a whispered breath, no scant token that offers hope in any measure of devotion Shattered is the heart that has been forgot In the midst of grief, a voice it does not hear. It's time to move on for the echo returns not. and in its absence, a heart must prove austere. Purge all the sorrow and wash away its stain. No longer whisper and do not strive to hear nonexistent echoes that resound in refrain, those ricocheting words that never did cohere.