Silent Rooms

I walk through silent rooms that harbor shadows of our past I wake to whispers in the night your spirit's form is cast elusive, though touching every thought a distant, haunting view I hide my grief a shroud I wear that folds its grip round you I begin each day a pennance paid pacing my empty cell awaiting healing of the soul when light peeks through this hell like dew returned by morning Sun I ask you wait for me to leave these silent rooms we share our spirits walking free

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...

More about me