VOICES
those voices
surge, they burn
promise to become
incandescent, and
threaten it too
behind
this shield of gases, vapours
we do not see the odd
star dance, others
as the old tale tells,
stopped
in their tracks
to hear such spluttering lives
take flame, exult, exalt
as if
they were lines
in the same grear epic
one great poem
one pure song
the hall echoing for
years thereafter
.this empty hall echoing
still echoing if only
we could still hear it
compare it to the sound of
the ice cracking, seismic
ripples
and tears
as
our voices lost
our poetry gone
the world chooses silence
and now fragments
poems 2 die for 