The faint whispers
The faint whispers, sordid and dying,
echo through time.
Lost voices of those long past
still cry out for redemption and safety
Harrowing and desperate,
they plead to regain that which has been stolen
Life, once precious and real,
now lingers only as a bittersweet memory
Endlessly, their souls search
for the lost spirit they once possessed,
yearning to taste joy and experience once more.
Disappointment is the only thing left for them to touch.
Remorse is all they are able to kiss
And sorrow . . . is all they can breathe.
7 January 1993