Sunday, June 4, 2006

Echoes of the dead

Shadows of the living passing by
With a faint nod, or polite smile

In between those shadows
You can hear what’s been said
If you listen close enough
To the echoes of the dead

The faintest whisper of her favorite perfume
The sound of his favorite album in the living room
Above the things that we most dread
The echoes of the dead

Shadows of the past flitter by
Catch them from the corner of your eye

Underneath those shadows
You can hear what’s being said
If you listen to
The echoes of the dead

The barely audible cry that fades with the wind
The comfort of knowing that death isn’t the end
Believe that there is something more ahead
If you listen to the echoes of the dead

Shadows of what was, once, and what will never be
Finding hope while I’m still here, something to believe
I keep listening
To the echoes of the dead

3 comments:

Oliviah said...

The echoes of the dead. So much to think about in this poem. I like it.

TotalChaos said...

Ahh, the last 9 years have been that way. Well written to the thoughts in my head.

Soulless said...

Gripping. ^_^ I liked the first two lines especially, how they made a reference to the living.

Cheers.