Whispers

I'm a rustling whisper from the shadows
A dirt mumble, climbing out of the grave
Words blowing through trees, bending weeds
Thoughts written in dream's dark ink
Frozen prints of melting echoes
A black cloak of breath that flees into the nights

Reviews

[Marie]

Wow! Vividly descriptive metaphor used to capture whispers which come from many places in our world. The sad thing is that the darker the whispers the faster they travel. An abstract write so eloquently penned. Thank you for sharing, Soren. Lovely work!

[Soren]

Thank you so much, Marie. I appreciate your interpretation and read of this piece.

[Marie]

Most welcome always, my friend...