THE CALL FROM THE DEAD
They are all dead and I'm alone. I hear them speak and whisper. Words so strong and light. There in the shadows they lurk. Faces so disfigured and unrecognizable. But I remember them all clearly. These are my parents and siblings. They all died in a house fire, burnt to a crisp. I hear strange voices and have strange dreams. I wonder what they are including their meaning. 'O death how unfair you are.' Are their faint words and cries. Sometimes I hear screams of shallow and deep voices. I hear th
