more voices
They run but they don’t move
They speak but do not talk
They hear yet they are deaf

The truth which comes in
the light is within follow
the light
If you hear them calling me then you’ll know I am free if they call your name instead than figure I am dead
Instead they heard the thunder
If only they had known
perhaps they would have
gone sooner
They held hands and waited for the sun to rise for
they had been told that it
would rise and light their
way out of the darkness
In the quiet still darkness of the night they would come almost
always voices in the silence of sleep. Working their way into my unconsciousness etching forwards into my soul. Planting seeds to be sowed at sunrise. Flowers to unfold the secrets of time.