Poem, Sagas, Scenic, Short story, Weekend

One day.

I heard a whisper long before. A hushed and quiet word lost to all by my own ears. A word both sweet and filled with sorrows unimagined by the world and those who live within.

It was a whisper of a life not of my own, but of my blood and soul. It was a whisper of what might be in a time where my eyes would never see.

And so I closed my eyes with sorrow, as my face smiled with what I would miss. But I know what it is I would miss and what I will never know.

With my blood in their veins, and my life in their memories, so will they go forth and perhaps whisper of what once was.

But always I will be there watching, quietly from far away. In the echoes of what is, then was, the lives which came from me.

31 thoughts on “One day.”

  1. Not to us sensible folk they’re not. Also I think someone tried to rob me but I couldn’t take the accent seriously in the first month there. I never could really, but I could hide it better in the end.

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  2. Beautiful and powerful. Every line meant something. I especially like the part: “With my blood in their veins, and my life in their memories, so will they go forth and perhaps whisper of what once was.”

    Liked by 1 person

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