As we travel through our mortal lives,
What whispers do we hear,
A heart that speaks out loud to us,
Or the voice of all we fear,
Do we keep our innermost thoughts,
Locked safely deep inside,
Only complaining to ourselves,
That our hopes and dreams have been denied.
All of us to a certain degree,
At times look forward or back,
Struggling with the here and now,
And the things we think we lack,
Any worrying changes nothing,
And in the end neither do tears,
No one else may feel the same,
But does anyone really care.
There lives a whisper in the head,
Or does it emanate from the heart,
And is there some way that we can tell,
When and where that whisper starts,
Is the voice from in the past,
A memory that speaks out loud,
Or an emotion’ s final curtain call,
That never took a bow.
Some years ago this voice began,
I even know the very day,
The day the person I need s0 much,
Took her voice away,
I might no longer see her face,
Yet I hear her speaking every day,
And until the very day I die,
That voice won’t go away.
There’s another possibility,
It’s that her heart is speaking out,
Giving strength to never give up,
Turning a whisper into a shout,
The voice becomes a guiding light,
A path to follow through the years,
A bridge across the torrent of time,
Made by our falling tears.
Could it be called insanity,
If your heart holds a voice so tight,
But maybe it’s all you want to hold,
Because it gets you through the night,
That voice is remembered by the heart,
Echoing in an empty head,
Insuring that love is always alive,
And it’s only you, not another instead.