Echos Poems - Poems about Echos

What’s the point of trying, when failure feels near? What’s the point of moving forward, when sadness is all I hear? Why bother achieving, when it seems they’ll leave and truths become clear? What’s the point of taking risks, when emotions turn to fear? What’s the point of letting go, when everyone just moves along? What’s the point of singing, when the meaning of the song...

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Why are we born into this body that begins to die? A question that echos throughout my mind. Sometimes this echo speaks to me in the voice of a child that has never seen the face of evil. In my head I hear the voice whisper softly. Can this life last forever I hear the...

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ECHOS OF PAIN I close my eyes and try my hardest to be strong and push past this pain, but nothing seems to work, I cant do it I would rather walk right out in front of a train, I need another hug, another priceless moment and another kiss goodbye, I don't understand...

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Bittersweet, or just a hard pill to swallow? I’ve done this to myself, haven’t I? Watching it crumble around me, Piece by piece, Like everything I once held so tight, Now slipping through my fingers, Flames to ashes, Ashes to dust. I know what I’ve done. I know it all too well. Yet, I feel nothing. Not even the searing burns on my skin, From the fires...

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Echos of footsteps... The bleeding heart pleads longing for yesterday Deep inside Unable to retreat For memories of sorrowful passion Painting a picture of reality today Where yesterday is all that's left Trapped within A memory Placed so far away Oh the echoing truth A boomerang of realities fate Flying onward, then Back around To be place Upon the blinded eye Only to hear What the heart denies An echoing cry Over and over...

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We love to hear an echo, resounding and abounding, reverberating our words off walls and harbingers, replaying and soothsaying our views and opinions. We seek the places and spaces, and company within earshot of what we want to hear, filtered in subtle ways to sound like something new and fresh repeated over and over again, rejigged and re-rigged. 'Coo-ee', 'coo-ee' we cry! Is...

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Woke to cold, then saw your coat— a new day, a new cope. I stay in bed longer, letting my thoughts wander— oh, how they grow old. Wake me, take me, make me new. I need, I want, one last night with you. Memories reflected on my face, help me keep my time in space. They remind me of whim, and losses—and him. So hold me, show me, know me through. I need, I want, one last...

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The wind whispers through autumn leaves A sigh... a rustle... a secret yearning Heart echoes, tender ache Love enshrined, lost in a season Gone but not forgotten Soul weeps, spirit undefined Sun's warmth! A caress! Fire ignites within, burning ember Love unfurls like a wild winter rose Strength unfurls, fuelled by longing This passion burns bright Knows no limits! Rain! Symphony of falling drops Cleansing torrent on wounded...

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The rustle of silk saris in a temple breeze, a voice that echoes with the ancient Ganga's flow, a woman weaves words, her heart at ease, a tapestry of stories, where ancient myths grow. She speaks in the language of her ancestors' prayers, a melody of tongues, vibrant and bold, her words, a peacock's dance, in the air, a symphony of whispers,...

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Mistakes, like tire tracks on the highway, to my dismay, I am persistently navigating wrong, trying to find my way. Why am I still a student who cannot learn life’s lessons? Each test is déjà vu of my shortcomings. This is sabotage! The unsettling presence of an inner enemy. Stealthily sowing seeds of doubt, Like a whisper in...

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I remember when the walls were red. Not a single person was dead. The room was big and wide, And it was so easy to confide. I lived in cabin seven. Jacque called it Heaven. I never thought I’d forget. It’s like we never met. Now the walls are no longer red. My old friends might as well be dead. The rooms are so small...

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Raging webs of haunting silence. In the meadow I lay. Walking forward the debt is made. Accept the fever Yoke to me. Giant rays of blooming seed. In the light we built our way. Mention Anastasia she is alive. Despite the rumors....

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stillness in near trees nature speaks very loudly~ breathe slow watchful eyes 7/30/2023...

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Creaky wood floors give me away as I roam the hallways of this ramshackle fortress. These old empty veins that used to carry life Rusty nerves are dulled and mute I walk a well worn path, softly. Curtains always drawn They shouldnt see But, It’s Spring again I bet that weeping cherry is blooming Seems so empty now And it’s aged so much The many...

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Only an echo is left in the halls distant in the falls void for trapings and all drifts through the moments like shadows awaking dreams the razor of reality only echos are left like the passing of a funeral parade in the glow of the fire its dark creation lived out fast lives greatest desires only the echoes last only the echoes last x3...

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