I walk the ether on shattered remnant souls
where upon each beleaguered treading are
the voices that speak,
          pulverized
beyond
             contemplation,
echoes of many mingle upon the reflections.

Abstaining from touching with my vocalization,
fearful onslaughts eager to venture upon me.
                "I stay silent,
Inhibited by their yearning to be me, but they
are but only remnants of a principle that was
burrowed upon they were a field of sorrows
now ploughed into oblivion. Seeding this ether
with spores of disillusion that will slowly grow
darker as they flourish upon others torments.

This is a place where no soul should venture by
own wandering, or enticed by the remnant voices
of others once vacant and known.

"They are a harvest of remnant souls,
          **"To whom they be fed upon, hope we never know...