Blind


A youthful voice shining bright.
Winds of laughter echoed across the years.
Here and there, becoming a flicker of yesterday, broken.

Do you hear the whispers?
They crack the silence with whips of shameful doubt.
Thrashing about, flinging the blood from your back.

Can you feel the shadows?
They box you up, tight. Building walls of thickening time.
A suffocating tomb, breathing lies into your lungs,
Swallowing the joy of memory.

Will you taste the tears?
They stream down from above, staining souls mercilessly.
A salty cataclysm wrought through pain and ruin.
A bleeding, shallow future. Bleakly fading on the horizon.

Do you smell the desperation?
It beckons from beyond the walls you cannot climb.
That is the scent of death that the shadows feed upon.
In the depths of your heart, they cry.

Shadows cry for the light that deserted them on an isle of sorrow.
They weep, for time is unyielding.
An eternal path that only the hopeless seek.
Forever crawling down the hole, ever shadows in the darkness.

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