To Echo Forth Void Of Sound
Poesy prim and rosey
Vagabonds, in passing rhyme
Pass the yearning of my mind
Speculation, and some suggest
That I come forth, and look my best
Deliberating over choices
Had I listened to my inner voice
Dissolved of all my absolutions
Was I lost in my confusion?
Just another, thought to fill my mind
Crimson are the leaves, at this current time
Seasons come and seasons go
Fade to black, like fallen snow
Mystic voices, hallowed screams
Senseless scurry, void of dreams
Though my thoughts, have lingered in
Caught among the hidden winds
Who steps forth from hallowed grounds?
To echo forth void of sound
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Copyright © Darryn John Murphy