static

they beckon me
they whisper as I sleep
touch my shoulder 
with unseen fingers
sending waves of dead static through my soul
the after
the in-between
the remaining energy
reaching for some connection 
to their mortal coil
they find solace in my belief
a ground for their whispering pulse
the remnants of a soul once lived
the static that refuses to leave
completely

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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