the hollow spaces

we are most alone when we most need to be,
walking through the hollow spaces, listening
for the echoes of a faded laughter. silence.
such is pain, not when the arrow pierces,
but when we pull it out, the damages done.
fallen from a height, fractured on the floor
of our most terrifying avatars of Icarus,
watching the waters rush up to embrace us,
helpless to do more than cry out
as we are swallowed by the waters of isolation.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.