The voices of the forgotten
Echo in the fog
Over a stagnant pond
Near the bayou
The tone moves between the trees
Toward the barnacles that cling
Onto the foundation of limestone
Forged by turbulent forces
Years ago
The organisms of the bayou
Have no ears to hear,
Nor can their speech
Reform the phantom pleas
Of the remembrance sought by these forgotten screams
So the phantom voices echo endlessly... endlessly
Stirring the twigs, brush, and coniferous leaves,
Haunting the bayou with a soul of unrest,
Choking its fertile growth by the moans of the past
while its fruit baring seeds are rehashed
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