You whisper in the ear of a dead man.
Telling him all the things you regret.
What you wish you'd said before.
All of the things you wish you'd done.
And all of the things you wish you hadn't.

But what if his eyes opened to behold,
His ears could comprehend your words,
And his gaze pinned you down trapped?
What if sorrow shown in his soul?
Would you regret your candid confessions?

Would the hurt of words unspoken for years
Digging into his very self and being
Be enough for you to fully understand?
Would you bid him live on in this cold world,
Or cross over to a place where whispers...

Aren't needed?