Empath's Echo
I wake to whispers not my own,
Heavy hearts, a constant drone.
Their sorrows seep into my veins,
Uninvited, yet it remains.
A glance, a sigh—a silent plea,
A storm that finds its home in me.
A weight I carry, deep and wide,
No place to run, nowhere to hide.
Joy appears but isn’t mine,
A fleeting glimmer, thin as twine.
While anguish roots and digs in deep,
Robbing me of precious sleep.
A thousand voices in my mind,
Battles waged, secrets confined.
Bound to feel, I wonder why,
To hold their pain, to hear their cry.
Yet in their echoes, I exist,
Torn by sympathy I can’t resist.
A fragile light, a bleeding flame,
An empath’s curse, an empath’s name.
Copyright ©
Oliver Henry
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