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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Romance/Love >> ID #1505908 |
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Not a whisper, don’t make a sound.
Shush listen, can you hear the pound? Now the echo that brings it back From the hollows deep within lack. The rhythms beat and overlap With a steady rap-a-tap-tap. Reverberations off the walls, From the canyon dug by the falls And the river flowing through it That eroded out the deep pit, Resonates while even asleep, Coming into dreams from the deep. Ears cannot evade what they hear. From any quiet they appear. There is no escaping their beats, Not awake or upon the sheets. The drum taps out the empty tune In the sun or under the moon. This is the beat from emptiness Echoing throughout the darkness. The hollowness of the absence Beating with a steady cadence, Into the ears upon the cliff Filled with the thoughts, if only if. The echoing heartbeats of he, He that’s lost in the tapping sea. The high waves pouring over him Taking him under limb by limb. The echoing beat that misses The beat holding all the fixes.
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