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Patri Sep 22
The voices of the dead serenade me
To sleep.
From across the vast expanse
Of time
They whisper soothing nothings.
When alone
They comfort me and gently reassure me of
Better days.
Their voice, their ghost, their everlasting breath haunts
My thoughts
And remind me that I am only mortal;
A gift
Not often remembered.
Wisdom from
Beyond the void of death frozen in song
Making me
Miss those I have never know.
No one
Has so gently crooned verses of strength and love
To me
As the beautiful voices of the dead.
Listening to old music

— The End —