Shadow of the Echo

(To Mike, with hate; I’d wish you dead dreams, but it’s too late.)

We were searching
For an echo;

no answer
to our sound
a voice that whispered evil,
a voice we finally found.

We thought we were singing do-wop,
two voices joined one,
and Satan let us mark harmonies,
until compassion and humanity were done.

You were so catchy;
I’d join your voice anywhere;
even dark caves
where bats sucked skull-blood
After tangling with your hair.

I’ll never know what I did wrong,
Though I think you hated every song
Led by me and from my creative mind;
how many partners have you found?
How many times have you left them hopeless

and resigned?

But I was an artist, a singer and penner,
unafraid of your clear tenor,
so you left one day for reasons unexplained,
my voice unsamed, my throat unclaimed.

I’ll never find a partner who complements,
My sanity and halfway sense

With eb\ven one-tenth of the love that you pretended;
but you’re dead to me now,
And I’m half-mended.

Searching
for an echo
to scorch us when we were cold;
you searched the wrong voice first, my friend,
I won’t break
though sometimes
I fols.
 

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