Echoes of Emotions
In the quiet shadows of the soul, Pain and sorrow often take their toll.
Echoes From the Heart, Where the Heart Still Speaks, Where the Missing Things Go
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In the quiet shadows of the soul, Pain and sorrow often take their toll.
Echoes From the Heart, Where the Heart Still Speaks, Where the Missing Things Go
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In sorrow's hues, a visage worn, Eyes deep as night, gaze forlorn.
Echoes From the Heart, Where the Heart Still Speaks, Love Was Never Ours to Keep
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Beneath the vast New Mexico skies, Where clouds like cotton softly rise.
Echoes From the Heart, Where the Heart Still Speaks, What Remains of Us
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I am a cellar wall, and I hold fast what rolled down here: potatoes, glue, and wine,
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I am her kettle. Four years she has spent learning my moods: two clicks, and then a threat.
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I searched for it in distant lands, Beyond the reach of roads I'd known. Shifting years and changing sands,
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Even angels need reminding, not of how to spread their wings, but that the heart behind the feathers
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I do not need the crowd’s applause, Nor strangers saying I belong. I’ve learned to live without a cause
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I used to think that joy would come with trumpets sounding from the sky, some grand event, some distant drum,
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I slipped beyond the cliff’s stark edge, The wind erased each steady trace. No hand appeared upon the ledge,
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The page spoke low beside the flame, Add one more good thing before you sleep.
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A weathered board stood in the sand, Its message brief, yet strangely wise. It did not beg or make demands,
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