(no subject)
An echo drifts past,
playing tricks upon the ear,
like faded music
carried on a dying wind
to abandoned wastes
where not a soul dares venture.
Could it be laughter?
No, perhaps it is weeping...
Its meaning is lost
in other woes and worries,
forgotten by those
who walk a diverging path.
Distant, ghostly, voice -
to whom did it once belong?
Now a crumbled shape,
now a decayed form somewhere,
gone from memory...
With no way to remember
where it issued from,
this voice is sad regardless
of whether it laughs or cries.