Voice...
What is it?
Is it the noise
That hit
Our consciousness?
Deciphering every word
Or sound we hear.
Yet, I fear
That these so-called sounds
Always come around
Running away
Moving each day
Fighting the ray
Of light
But why the lightness?
And not the darkness
Why feel perpetual emptiness
Covered in a facade of glimpses
Of hope?
That take time to cope
I hope, oh, I hope
The ray keeps fighting
That the sound of voice
Isn't just grim noise
But filled with poise
And comfort to raise
I from the depths of my mind
So I can once again find,
I