Pure voice of a child
Calls me from within
The little child told me;
'One day you
You will hear me
And one day
You will listen too
When that day comes I
Will be there for you
Your soft and crushed flower
Waits for you.'
Melancholy words
I never understood
But did I hear him?
So do I listen?
I heard again the
same night
Whispering in my vivid ear
'One day
I'll be right,
Little one,
Maybe I can cure you too.
One day I could set you free
If only you would let me.'
I felt as though the younger of us both
Though I knew he was the me I
Never could have been
I ceased to care enough for words
Before I even began to live at all.
I cannot cease this wondering...
Is this my final blessing or my final curse
Calling me with the voice of a dying child?
