It was soft and silent, not very harsh or loud.
I think it was a whisper that rang throughout the wind,
So calming and so clever, that sounded now and then.
Eyes searching through the shadows for the perfect lullaby,
No answer, no music,
Only a whispered cry.
A candle in the window,
Only lit by flame, it won't go out till I hear the silent whisper of the voice again.
Once I heard a whipser,
Not so harsh and loud,
As I sat in front of the window
And watched the flame go out.
Now I am just a whisper
Whithin the desert sky,
Not a soul,
Nor a spirit,
Just a whispered cry.
By: Shelly Belk
