The Echoes Inside My Mind

In the loneliness of dark nights,
And in the shadows of the morning light,
That face is still inside my waiting sight.
In the answers to uncertain questions,
And under the veil of unknown contemplation,
That presence is still inside my sensation.
In the obscurity among the bright stars,
And in the autumn among the spring tide,
That fragrance is still inside my breaths.
In the storms that crashing at the shores,
And in the dew that vanishing at the sun shows,
That footstep is still knocking inside my closed doors.
In the script of unwritten description,
And in the verses of unheard emotions,
That voice is still echoing inside my mortification.