Whispers linger, they fail to die,

The burning embers from that spring,

Yawning voids mirror holes that sting,

My trickling tears have now turned dry.

In a realm far my eyes espy,

A bright future that could have been,

The treasured portraits lay unseen,

My bereft soul teeters with pleas,

Alas! Fading dreams slowly cease,

I fall with vestiges umpteen.

***