The echo of footsteps,
Has followed me all my life.

I hear it in empty halls,
Empty rooms, empty spaces.
It resonates.
I see it in empty chairs,
Feel it in vacant stares,
It resonates.

I have seen its reflection, my own
In tears, and fears, and trickles of blood.

That mindless fear,
A conquering, oppressive thought.
What if my life meant nothing?

I hear it echoing,
In the empty spaces inside my soul.
It resonates.

In those growing years,
So long ago,
Those unknowing years,
It was merely my shadow.

It followed me everywhere I went.
I paid it no mind, not really, no, not really.

I was happy, free, crazy.
Ignoring it and wandering the halls,
Filled with people laughing, talking.

But in the haze,
In the shadows,
Were the echoes of footsteps
In empty halls.

I noticed from time to time,
How no one noticed me.

I played it off.

But now,
Now things have changed.

In the darkest times now,
So much farther down along the road,
I still hear the echoes
Of my small footsteps
In empty halls.

And when I am alone again,
That sound

9:54 pm