Nails hammered to leather soles

striking the Cobblestone

Screaming in the Wooden silence

of those Black and Silver days

I heard them Go

 

Such a Tuning Fork, that resonance

is the Background of my life

the Tapestry of Noise against which

all else Echoes

 

Muttering incessantly I cannot die

hold on, lest the Memory fade

in the race to Forget

 

I am the Wave Length of those buildings

that are no longer

 

I am a Frequency to those who come

revisit the places of horror

we dare not Ignore

 

I resonate Relentless, such ghost pains

for those who will listen, remember

and Keep Living

 

For those who deny, won’t hear

I drive them to Tone Madness

 

I, I am Sound Memory.