THE ECHO OF DEEDS

This life is just an echo of
What you dispatch of vice or love.
You send a call through mountain dale,
And get the answer, curse or hail.

Don't send a curse; you will receive
What hurts or what your heart can cleave.
What you send with your voice you gain
As echo can your voice return.

Don't say the span of this dale's wide
If soon or late returns your sound.
If it's a curse your ears will get
And send it to hurt your own heart.

You may say life will take me long.
It may, but won't forget your wrong.
Your deed returns as echo does
And opens past wounds and reminds.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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