It echoes through that warmth, faint and phantom it teases me,

And it stirs the air, giving me hope for what could be,

But it seems when I'm close enough to hold it in my grasp,

The wind comes to blow the words away, too weak to last.

Soundless whispers call my name, I try to catch what is not said.

I say the name with every breath and yet you hear not what is pled.

And I see you wrapped around your chosen solitude,

Every single time you entice me to intrude.

The wind murmurs secrets now, you didn't catch, you didn't touch,

The secret voiceless longing of the muted singer that I am,

The silence is too loud, the hope now too faint to warm,

The echoes of my silent tears, the sound of mourning now…

Yet it teases me your silence, it echoes through my soul,

Resounding like glass shattered, my breaking heart, my song.

It.Teases.Me.Still.