Forgotten Voices
By sidewinder
Rage, Red rage.... engrossed in its own immocracy, Melodies made in death's own rhapsody, Ravens call in their own whispers, A silence that touches in great change, Currents that meet those shadows which find a unpredictable corner, Touched in a soul, Where compassion is forgotten in a graveyard of children's voices which cry their loneliness in the night. Sept. 16, 2000 Written March 8th, 2002 © on Mar 08 2002 06:21 AM PST, Billy E. Whitehorn dark
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"Rage,..."