I am an echo.
An echo of all that was and all that is.
An echo of all that has been and all that will come to be.
An echo trapped somewhere between past and present, unsure of its future.
I am an echo.
An echo bound to the reverberations of time.
An echo forced to repeat itself as if no one heard.
An echo willing a listening and understanding ear.
I am an echo.
An echo that once was something else.
An echo that once was a sound or a sight or a touch but now just is
An echo.
I am full of echoes of my past.
Echo upon echo upon echo, waiting to unleash themselves.
No longer waiting for a willing ear, my echoes have made themselves audible.
Can you hear them whisper?
Can you hear them roar?