Scott Park


Echo - Poem by Scott Park

I hear your voice screaching in the night
In the day you tone is not so bright
You call at me and I hear it echo
Echoing in the darkness that haunts your very words
Two swords lie ahead with damp red substances
But still I hear your voice weakening by the time passes

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Read poems about / on: red, night, time



Poem Submitted: Monday, April 18, 2005



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