Faded Silent

turn it on
turn it back,
broken record
off the track,
I hear the whispers
echo softly back,
in my mind
they yet remain,
unintelligible
and indistinct,
confused and garbled,
on the brink,
teetering on the
edge of clarity,
creeping toward
discernability,
even though they start
to coalesce, to clarify,
they crest upon
the wall of tangibility...
the burning whispers
fade and die,
severing a part of me,
a distinction without
clarity, melting back
within the flow,
the essence of
I'll never know,
a squandered premise
now voiceless whisper,
trickling syllables
ever quicker,
'til faded silence
reigns...
'til the whispers
start again