voices lost
in the wind
floating across worlds
calling out
to who or what
unable to touch
anything solid, instead
can only feel
the ephemeral wisp
of another cryingout...
lost in a sea
of unimaginable
isolation and loneliness
why then
to be surrounded by
ghosts that jostle
and bump
along the packed avenue
of vacant souls
can we only
touch the untouchable
why then
does the death
an alien people
in a windswept desert
become more
meaningful
than the one
standing right here
