Poem Hunter
Soft Whispers
VB ( / )

Soft Whispers

Poem By Vanessa Brown

Lying awake at night,
My thoughts filter through an hour glass,
Melancholia thunders incessantly,
Against my fragile heart.

In a wisp of an ethereal memory,
My heart was once strong,
Fed with ego-flattering, fuelling love,
That i once believed to be true.

But lustful desire never lasts,
My ego died and left.
And the once delicious, succulent love,
Is nothing but a trace of a whisper;

A whisper that caresses my tender heart,
Softly kissing with it's sweet lips,
But it's consumed and devoured, it stands not a hope,
Against the cruel knowledge of insignificance.

In my sleep deprived state, I implore you;
When i wallow in the marshes of pain,
Take my hand, tilt my head up,
With a whisper of child-like love.

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Comments (1)

almost makes me cry. The wistful sadness comes through strongly. There's an irony, it seems, in the way you speak of the whisper as all that's left after you've purged yourself of an old, or false, love, and then ask for the whisper. I get that. (ps: If this is your own current state, I wish you healing and renewed wholeness.)