There's an echo of movement,
In these tired limbs
A sense of where they've once been
Of maybe what they once did
We are wedged here in limbo
Between the living and the dead
Between the dead and the nearly dead
We struggle through the day
Buoyed by a silence
A screaming moment
Free of the sound of sirens
Before they blast out into the night again
And then
In the darkness of the Autumn
All of it
It, Re-sounds
The noise again and again
Louder
And loudening
Out across the landscape
An echo of a time we thought past
But the dead are walking towards us again
Silently, fearful,
Clutching at breath
We are bound, gagged, chained
Enslaved to these silent horrors
They happen outside of us
Yet stain the inside somehow
Scarring us in words we cannot find
The tap of keys on a keyboard
That is not a voice
It is an artifice
Without being heard
And somewhere a heart beats
Beats
Beats
Beats
And stops
And its not the noise that resonates with us
It is the silence
Echoing outwards
Ever closer
Towards us.
And we are not delivered.
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