I call; my voice falls on deaf ears –
Words echoing into the void
They’re searching for a listener,
And the person who’ll chase my fears
I beg you, if you hear my cry
You’ll give me a signal at last
So that I may have my answer;
May know the truth before I die
I cannot keep up with this game,
Coy movements and then a standstill
For I am lost in future hopes
That are stealing me from the sane
But perhaps you’re not really there –
No saviour waits in the wings; and
I’ll be here clutching forever
Pretending that’s no empty chair
Image: Nicola Davison Reed