Promsing Melodies

Withering away is my berated breath, Feasting slowly on my last request. To where my words are lastly said, “For all the lonely hear my plea, I am your friend, And friends don’t flee.” As if I whispered with no sound, All could hear my silent vow. “If ever I lay down tonight, A thousand notes will hold you tight. My strong embrace you’re sure to hold, I am your voice, Your song to hold.”