Isolated Voices

The voices in my head sing,
Soft, quiet, rhythmical, clean.
Washing and wading without a worry
Closed and enveloped with vision so blurry.
Reaching; a hand that keeps me near
He drops his mask and exposes a tear. 
 
Words through my ears as sharp as knives
Crashing, thumping creating their own lives.
Suppressed, they wrestle out of sight
Fighting and hoping to reach day light.
Back and forth they sear and stumble
Hoping that one day, I may crumble.
 
The voices in my head sing
Soft, quiet, rhythmical, clean.
 
 


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