The Voice


Daily there’s a voice I hear, it whispers from the past,
An echo of a memory, that somehow always lasts,
As the voice is daily heard, each day then seems a dream,
And with a nightmare’s grasp each night, is the nightly screams.
At times it seems this whispering voice, comes from the depths of hell,
I know my heart can hear it, but does the mind hear it as well,
I thought it was imagination, yet hope that it is real,
A voice that I’d know anywhere, because it’s a voice that I can feel.
Does the voice come from my head, or maybe from the heart,
As it softly speaks to me and rips resolve apart,
I know it as an angel’s voice, music to these ears,
To hear that sound once again, the tune I need to hear.
I hear this voice every day, I hear it every night,
I hear it softly speak to me, of darkness and of light,
It tells me to hold on to hope, to keep the dream alive,
It whispers I should try to smile, until it’s finally time.
With this voice come memories, which the voice narrarates oh so well,
A story that unfolds every night, that only the soul can tell,
And as a breeze softly blows, its her voice speaking to me,
Softly whispering in my ear, love’s already been set free.

February 7th, 2016

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