I am, she is all I can
Whispers like bells come in the night, cries
entering I hear , I feel
so ancient they are swarmed by truth
Listening for a sound beyond us
that travels in the spoken words heard clairaudience
invisible ladder to the orphic library.
Where each angel rests
Printed in gray, tiny particle barely seen
etched with such care they
spirits , souls haunting's , walk ins,ghosts
Orbs gravitate towards truth
dreaming us awake.
By fairystar50
