Trail of a Waning Ballad

It was a long walk, I remember,
that evening was hard on me.
That air reeking of memory,
smelled of someone familiar to me.
There was no sound around, just
the two of us and our beats.
A twig cracked, a leaf fell, and 
slyly enough, time overtook me.

"Searching for a breath, are you?",
there was nobody around, just
the two of us and our voices.
With knees bent, gasping in pain, and
oddly enough, it stood before me.

"You can never finish; journey or a song,
leaving the rhythm to wander.
My rhyme was broken and scattered,
while you walked away into yonder."

It's resentment, eked in the verses,
it's melody detesting, and 
that refrain was strangling. 

"I knew not what were you,
your lyrics; likeable and unfamiliar.
I had you delivered to oblivion,
and yet you sounded very similar."

"Do you remember that time?", it asked
"that resonating friendly voice?"
"That voice has stayed", I mumbled
"and returning to it is not a choice."

"Neither do I", it retorted.
"You had some promises to keep,
and there are still some miles left,
but this is where you sleep."