Alone in the Echo
by Dawg
In the quiet quarters of my quartered heart,
where whispers wall off the worlds apart,
solitude sings its silent song,
a melody where only I belong.
The night wraps around like a grip disguised,
stars whisper secrets of a life undisclosed.
Each moment marked by the mind’s caress,
in the kingdom of comfort, I undress.
A private affair, this pleasure of one,
dancing alone beneath the absent sun.
The thrill of the quiet, the power of peace,
in the sacred silence, my soul’s release.
Lights flicker low in the dim-lit room,
shadows play in the evening’s loom.
A glass raised to the lips of none,
toasting the moon and the fading sun.
Here in the hearth of hallowed halls,
footsteps bounce off the empty walls.
Each step a declaration, space to roam,
in the solitude, I find my home.
A book lays open, its words like wine,
sipped slowly in the folds of time.
Music murmurs, a personal play,
notes that carry the night away.
No need for noise, no need for fray,
in my fortress of solitude, I sway.
This lone leisure, a lush escape,
from the wearing world, its endless scrape.
Here’s to the solo, to the single stride,
in the company of myself, I confide.
For in the footsteps of my echoed steps,
I find the heart’s most hallowed depths.