The sound of silent voices surveying my thoughts.
Regularity defining perfection,
Neither sorrow nor contentment,
Whispering emptiness.
Frail words collapse.
My weight only stirs the ground.
How long can I hold your hand as you walk over graves?
You search for tears of compassion,
Yet find the comfort of winter.
Reassurance dead like the falling leaves
Losing hope in your unchanging ways.
All of my strength can’t save you
If you’re unwilling to help yourself.