My lonely voice

My lonely voice is the shape of a deepening sigh
It's the fingers clasped gently around waterfall eyes
Shallows and swallows beneath every breath
A legend forgotten or a torch bearing death

It's in every syllable, noun, adjective, verb
The blue lacing, dripping through every forced word
My lonely voice is the shape, Yes the shape of each stain
Which seeps through the corridoor wrought and insane