The Echo When the lights of the day has turned bronze and fading away. Comes the twilight that cascades for nightfall’s on the way. Mystic beauty dark and dank invisible strangers make you think. Imagination growing, growing for the fear of never knowing. Passing shadows through the night inside screaming, alive with fright. With the footsteps growing nearer you find their destination clear. You sense the need of running faster to flee from sure impending disaster. You turn and try to see who’s there but only those steps that come from nowhere. You see a light up ahead on a tower gasping the air, lungs burning, on fire. You reach the source of luminescence with joy thinking of combat in which to employ. But when you turn and face the night air you find that the footsteps are no longer there. You ponder the moments that passed and realized that your mind was running too fast. By Robert Munnerlyn