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I sleep on their graves, my eyes slumber like death that echoes through moisture and earth. They talk to me in mumbles, I touch the ground and I hear their pains in each weeping word. I sleep on separate ones for to slumber on one invites their pain into my mind, I once did slumber on one to many incidences did envelop my thoughts, wanting them in silences embrace. They held on to my being but I learned that one to many voices can ****** an essence of life. Draining the need to breath, to settle within their cold embrace and lie dormant in oblivion. Some tell me stories of times long past, while others I sing a lullaby to, so young not knowing why they slumber in darkness but my words sooth their worried cries Sshhh... little one slumber so quiet. They shout sometimes, I ask them to hibernate in waiting for their time would come when their voices would rest and afterlife would peacefully greet. I want to sleep but the voice always want to speak. I always wonder, could I rest one day in the deep. Or will I just linger in this place listening to their thoughts and voices. Will I ever know what they will eventually feel the earth below or only listen to the deep.
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Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
They Whisper So Many Things
I sleep on their graves, my eyes slumber like death that echoes through moisture and earth. They talk to me in mumbles, I touch the ground and I hear their pains in each weeping word. I sleep on separate ones for to slumber on one invites their pain into my mind, I once did slumber on one to many incidences did envelop my thoughts, wanting them in silences embrace. They held on to my being but I learned that one to many voices can ****** an essence of life. Draining the need to breath, to settle within their cold embrace and lie dormant in oblivion. Some tell me stories of times long past, while others I sing a lullaby to, so young not knowing why they slumber in darkness but my words sooth their worried cries Sshhh... little one slumber so quiet. They shout sometimes, I ask them to hibernate in waiting for their time would come when their voices would rest and afterlife would peacefully greet. I want to sleep but the voice always want to speak. I always wonder, could I rest one day in the deep. Or will I just linger in this place listening to their thoughts and voices. Will I ever know what they will eventually feel the earth below or only listen to the deep.
poetic-t
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poetic-t
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
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