Sunday, August 30, 2015


The echoes from an empty heart reflect much more than pain
The warmth, the smile, the twinkling eye, the echoes all remain
A trumpet down the corridors of all eternity
That herald to a time when life is met triumphantly
The resonations craft the heart to that which will withstands
The whirlwind whimsies of a world, much more the heart demands
Of echoes of a future meant for grasping more than frill
To stumble on a gem, indeed, reflections overfill


© 2015 whickwithy


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