I was always fascinated by echoes,
Even long before I understood them.
To call out for help, and finally have someone respond,
Now that was a miracle in my naive eyes.

When I got older I traveled more.
I explored new places with hills and valleys.
The echos stayed constant, they always responded.
The echos brought me false comfort, and I thought they would keep me alive.

Now I have led myself into a cave.
The echoes are louder here, yes,
But they do not bring me comfort as the once did,
The echoes leave me as cavernous as the place I stood.

A droplet of water falls from the ceiling as a tear runs down my face.
Boulders fall as I collapse in on myself.
Because as I stood there listening for echoes,
I realized I would rather hear your voice instead.