Echoes of the Empty Verse

Echoes of the Empty Verse

Shattered syllables scatter, slipping through rain-soaked skies,
words once whispered like warnings now wane where the melody dies.
Fingers fumble for fragments, tracing truth on a tongue turned numb,
every echo evaporates early, every chorus chokes before it comes.

Verse bleeds venom in verses, vowels vanish, vision veers,
sentences splinter in shadows, swallowed by unspoken fears.
Pauses press like prisons, pacing patterns too far gone,
lyrics linger like lifeless lovers, clinging to a broken dawn.

Screaming into silence, but the silence swallows whole,
every line I write gets buried in the blackened undertow.
Chasing every phantom phrase that never takes its form,
a song that sings of nothing–lost before the sound was born.

Cadence carved from the chaos, but silence swarms and stalls.
Every letter left lifeless, syllables stripped and slain,
ink spills into the infinite, drowned inside the still refrain.