The Weeping Sound Poem by ryan morris

Threw the ageless tunnel, threw endless tunnel
I see the figure in the midst of the endless
It seems to be weeping, also devastated
Crying out for help, so it seems
Although I can’t really distinguish this figure, its seems to me as a masculine voice
Calling out, Help! Help! Help!
Only if I could, I would but there is a thick mist ahead disguising this soul in stress
I approach this fog, with such contemplation, such wicked thoughts occur
Is this a trick? Am I going to obtain these weeping, devastating actions?
Only if I knew, the problem is I didn’t want to
I couldn’t bare the anticipation anymore; the stress was overwhelming and damaging
My countering footsteps led me to the near end, destination filled with colorful trees
Filled with the noise of this crying figure, I could hear it so clear, almost as if I was standing over it
The screams got louder and louder, as my hopes got closer and closer
I felt as if I couldn’t help the ageless, nor the endless anymore
This soul was nowhere to be found
Then a sudden end to this weeping sound