| |
The Sounder
I become what I see, each moment that passes with the pain that I alone seem to sense.
Needing release from the surrounding screech of broken dreams and silent smiles.
No one needs a friend, a ringing laugh from a light heart.
Rays of sun that emenate from my serene soul, have become a black hole of disgust.
How can I give of my time when I have no ability over its control.
So I am speaking to others; in vain, if they choose not to hear of their own, or, anothers
pain.
I tell them where they may find the time, if they will listen to the sounds of their own hearts
with pure joy kept in mind.
Yet, I gave up trying to get out and found strange peace in that surrender.
It seems that if I lay down my body and soul, give my mind to the unending needs, I can
finally leave the sad reminders of truth.
Why keep a hope of the future when the past replaces each new day?
Unanswered cries of and unloved soul only bring the wolves to devour the sounder.
Copyright ©
Cricket Berry
|