Stalk-eye
An echo of a murmur,
We speak into an echo chamber,
A connection with a murmur.
You read without permissions,
Gather others’ conversations
In the belief you have the right,
In the shadows out of sight.
But what you do is wrong
And it’s been going on too long.
You know the pain you cause.
Just another form of abuse.
We seek an escape route
But you smother, dispute.
You can’t read your own skin,
Even though it’s long lived in.
Here’s where the sky falls
For it means nothing at all.
Your skin is empty ground,
When you talk there is no sound.
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