voices on the wind, variation two

This is a 2005 re-imagining of a 1978 work, designed to take some of the turns of phrase and thought and let them blossom in new directions. I, personally, like it better than the original, but that's just me.

voices on the wind, variation two

for the dime or dollar I write my toneless song
expressing pain or longing to an apathetic throng
that can never feel my tears.
no one really hears.
voices on the wind.

a trip, a slip, a modest chip of granite from the wall
against which mortals lean, and ponder yet unseen
a wind that cruelly blows.
no one really knows.
voices on the wind.

so many unasked questions, the tasks of sentient thought
that spindle as they dwindle, upon a point now caught
as they force us to our knees.
they bear a frail disease.
voices on the wind.

the shadow hearts are played as cards on tabula rasa felt
leaving blood and badinage beneath each psychic welt.
a gallows humour flood.
the words are bought with blood.
voices on the wind.

and who will trust the prophets that have promised passage soon
across the lake to Avalon, beneath a perfect moon?
the final sand grains fall.
I listen to their call.
voices on the wind.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.