He Who Hears the Past

Your lips are blue
The trees become silhouettes
Like giants devouring you
The road is narrow in this forest

From behind you hear whispers
Everywhere you go they follow
Your feet travel
But they cloud you like shadows

It’s a long road ahead of you
Your small body is growing fast
Your smile is supposed to grow too
But the ghosts make sure it doesn’t

Body of a twelve year old
Memories of an old soul

They tell you stories
Haunt you when you sleep
In every place you visit
You can hear their screams

This forest only has one road
And it sure is long
But for you, courageous boy
Their roads are yours
The things you know
You carry on your own


2 thoughts on “He Who Hears the Past”

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