A voice echoing all around - through every corner

with no crevice left untouched, and the shouts heard all round everywhere

the words stop as the tongue pauses in thirst

what am I trying to say?

no mass scramble of consonants and vowels and punctuation marks

can decode the words tumbling

out, out of my lips and onto the paper with the grey flow of a pencil stream

stream out, directly under the gaze of a brown eye

following the pencil and the paper

eager to share in the adventure, tarry along

to hear the echo left -faint- in every corner

who knows if I've spoken correctly?

but it's out now

my tongue, parched, trying to consume

one poem at a time it's written - Y

and the remnants of shouts bouncing around weakly

whispers all that's left.