Sunday, March 20, 2011

A Whispers Echo

Waiting for a friend to arrive,
He’s one who’s struggled in comparable manners
To what I have, and currently am bound to qualify in my daily life,
The precept maybe corrupted because of choice and reasoning,
But the analogy still holds balance to the statement such,

I ramble on too much, this I know too, very well

And yet, aware I still continue in the same manner still

Dreams of violence, why and how
I’m a good natured sort
With a bitter pill swallowed years before
But the images this subconscious shares
How and why, and where are their compositions from?

I’m a good man, one who carries himself in moral ways,
I walk and talk and speak and think,
Yet what do my visions mean,
I cannot help but wonder
If some weird alteration is at play in me,
I think and wonder much too often
I honor and respect and pray
I relish those moments in where hardened times get softened
Where whispers echoes are stronger than the shouted word

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