his voice may be gone
but the echoes still linger
branded in my mind
like those haunted shadows
burnt into the concrete
of hiroshima
death outlined in carbon
instead of chalk
a silent testament to the horror
of war
ghosts that will not be erased
and so his voice echoes
lacking substance
but whispering all the same
his final vengeance
phantoms of the war he waged
on me

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