Compassionate thoughts intensify and echo
Within the minds of those least suspect.
The taunting voice revolves around the mind
And sets the souls of those afflicted on fire.
Why don't they see that which truly resides
Inside the tortured ones who cut and slash
At the confidence and lives of those around them?
I'm reaching out!
This scream of rage is nothing more than a cry of despair-
"Hear my sorrows!
Ease my pain!
Tend my wounds!"
How can it be that these calls for help
Are useless until the sound of silence resounds
Within the damaged heart that beats no more?
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