In The seconds of emptiness in my head. I am left to listen to echoes of water drops.
One drop, two drop, and another drop filling the hollow.
Listen to roars of the demise of youth. Whisper, repeat and rinse away.
Listen to populous talk of life of a demise child.
A child meets death without a mother, has father that was not.
Listen again to roars of demise of youth. Listen this time to single drop…