Singer for the Dead

My voice rises among them.
Their screams of pain and agony blend into a sweet harmony.
Cries of anguish and moans of fear are like whispered sweet-nothing from the one that owns your heart.

My voice soothes them.
They settle in one spot instead of roaming like the misguided ghosts they are.
The restless become weary in my  presence.

Who is the person that can take away the fear of the fearful? The pain of the painful? Who is the one that brings hope to the hopeless? Rest to the restless?


You've  heard of the Speaker for the Dead? I'm not much different. The Speaker gives the dead a voice. I give them music. I express their pain to those that cannot even begin to fathom it. I give the dead hope for a brighter day through my sad melodies and woeful harmonies. 

The Speaker knows that words can only express so much. That's why I am here- to express what the words cannot. I am the feeling inside you when you are at a loss for words. I am the music in your head when you have nothing else to turn to. I am the Singer.

The Singer for the Dead.
♠ ♠ ♠
It tools m awhile to write this poem. The idea of it came to me last night and I've been writing down kittle slivers o what I wanted to put in it all day! I finally got the chance to piece it together about 10 minutes ago. I really hope you enjoyed it and feedback is welcomed! I really want your criticism so I can become better at writing. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my poem!!!