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Echoing

Author: Chipper the Crow
Type: Poems
Rating: unknown
Status: Complete

Contents

Stars.

Stars, stars, and more stars.

IT'S ENDLESS.

It's eternity.

It's nothing to be afraid of.

ECHOES.

Echoes, echoes, ECHOES, ECHOES.

They never end.

THEY, TOO, ARE ENDLESS.

They aren't eternal, but they might as well be.

They're nothing to be afraid of.

This is my life.

This is my ENDLESS life.

This is NOT my ENDLESS life.

This is NOT my ENDLESS AFTERlife.

I'm not dead.

AM I?

I'm merely away from Earth?

PERHAPS.

Questioning, shining, laughing, echoing stars.

Scattered across the black abyss.

Unseen are the scars.

Nothing is amiss.

I thought I saw it.

I THOUGHT YOU WERE BLIND.

I thought I saw space.

I THOUGHT IT WAS THE ABYSS?

Which one is it?

CHOOSE ONE.

Choose one-

Was that another voice?

YES.

Echoing back to me?

AN ECHO?

A mimicry of my voice?

YOUR VOICE?

Mocking my pleas?

WHAT PLEAS?

The stars they are endless like your souls.

What is a soul?

DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DON'T HAVE ONE!

But I don't!

WHAT WERE THOSE THOUGHTS, THEN?

Endless like the fire of your life's coals.

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

It's here to mock us.

BOTH OF US?

You simply float there, singing?

I don't sing...

I'VE HEARD YOU SINGING BEFORE.

While the stars are ringing?

Okay, the others made no sense.

THIS ONE MAKES EVEN LESS!

Insult me all you want-

You can hear us?

It is nothing but a croissant.

I.

What?

THAT MAKES NO SENSE AT ALL.

NEGATIVE SENSE, IN FACT.

Hmm.

Oh, so you're not responding, now?

I exist, that is true.

But do you?

WELL, OBVIOUSLY.

They're waiting.

Watching.

Reading.

Learning.

You know, I really thought that the creepy ethereal voice would at least be poetic.

AS DID I.

You want a poem? I'll give you one, then.

Yes.

YES.

She is mother, tireless, wandering.

He is father, lying, pondering.

They are eternity, scattered throughout the void-

I'm going to have to cut you off there, creepy ethereal voice. That is a terrible poem.

I tried my best.

I supposed I'll go with the rest.

THE WHAT?

The flow, harsh demonic voice, the flow of time.

I AM NOT DEMONIC.

You're practically my opposite! :D

FIRST OF ALL, WE'VE ONLY KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR WHAT, A DAY?

Less.

SECOND OF ALL, HOW DID YOU PRONOUNCE THAT?

An angel has his ways.

A what?

I forgot to add the line. You know, the one that turns a . into a ?

How did you effortlessly pronounce a period and a question mark?

Okay, I lied. I'm not an angel. I'm not even that ethereal.

I'm self-aware, that's all there is to it.

I'M 95% CERTAIN THAT I EXIST.

That leaves 5%

If you're right and we're not real, can I just say something?

Certainly.

There are humans reading this.

More than humans.

WHAT?

- - - -

it was an ECHO

an ECHO of life

they floated there

he and she drifted alongside them

he was aware

she was aware

they were, miraculously, not

- - - -

Was that a poem?

I THINK IT WAS.

I don't think it was.

Shh, there's more.

- - - -

if silence was a droplet,

this was an ocean.

if silence was an ember,

this was a wildfire.

- - - -

THAT MAKES NO SENSE.

Agreed. This entire poem has been full of talking.

Was it even a poem?

I DON'T THINK SO.

If it was a poem, there'd be some sort of rhythm.

- - - -

it was an ECHO of life.

nobody understood it.

of course, nobody understood life, either.

but they'd understand this far less.

- - - -

Okay, I do believe I've just found the solution.

WHICH IS?

- - - -

it was an endless void,

full of stars, but not stars, as such.

more like ECHOES of stars.

ECHOES of ECHOES of stars.

- - - -

What is it with this writer and the word ECHO?

EVEN THAT WAS CAPITALISED!!

ECHO, echo, echo... Hardly even worthy of a page of its own, to be honest with you.

no

dont drag me into this

kt'w4ru4u03u, WE NEED YOU HERE.

how did you even bring me here

i wanted to be lost

i need to get away

- - - -

one, two, three, four ECHOES.

nobody could understand it.

what purpose would a story such as this serve?

why would anyone write a poem about nothing?

- - - -

WHY, ru[329u-p92su?

WHY?

its ending soon

i dont want to give them even more questions

It's too late for that.

It's too late for everything.

- - - -

ECHOES of a story?

ECHOES of a plot?

ECHOES of characters?

sounds a lot like a dream, if you ask me.

- - - -

Okay, is it just me, or is the poetic voice also one of us?

One of what?

One of us, you know...

one of the ECHOES

I was trying to avoid the word!

- - - -

a dream

dreamt by someone

dreamt by someone

dreamt by someone

- - - -

WHY WOULD YOU REPEAT THE SAME LINE THREE TIMES?

maybe its to show ECHOES

What is it with this writer and ECHOES?!

Well, it IS called 'ECHOING'.

- - - -

someone

- - - -

WHO?!

just tell us already then this can end

- - - -

someone bored

someone confused

someone dead

- - - -

WELL THAT TOOK A DARK TURN.

Isn't it cliché to have the 'writer' die?

Probably?

- - - -

a dream about other dreams

smaller dreams

you could even say that the dream was

ECHOING

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