Whispering in my ear,
The past echoing in my mind,
My eyes see the spirits roaming now,
I smell the scent of Death,
Touching my shoulders if they need my help,
Spirits are they,
A never-ending mass they are,
Tied down to Earth by some pathetic desire,
I let them come to me and free them,
Then the whispering comes again,
Another's past in my mind,
I see another,
They touch my shoulder,
And it all starts again.
By : Alyssa Hellenbrand
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