Echos

Echos​

It was a cold dark night​

And the streets were winded​

With the blackened light​

I walked there blinded​

On a stone sat a weeping child​

In the corner a mourning mother​

On a hill was a man who smiled​

He didn’t even bother​

The echoing voices of the past​

Filled my ears as I awoken​

With knowledge I had been blessed​

And no longer felt so broken​

​

 

Beautiful, simply beautiful

 

I shall give you aid on your journey, in just such a way: puncuation and syntax: