deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Voices and the Sword
I feel my veins pulsing
My eyes locked on the sight
I hear the voices talking
Making fun of my plight
Oh to be rid of those voices
Mocking me on this night
My soul would be elated
And gleefully cheer in delight
I reach for my trusty pen
The mightiest of swords
And start to put to paper
If I can only find the words
But simple words elude me
And the voices shout so loud
But I concentrate my breathing
And words they flow so proud
I can hear the voices panic
Scattering all around
As the pen slides across the page
The voices barely make a sound
Deep down I quite suspect
Those voices are really mine
And if I can make it till tomorrow
Perhaps everything will be fine
My eyes locked on the sight
I hear the voices talking
Making fun of my plight
Oh to be rid of those voices
Mocking me on this night
My soul would be elated
And gleefully cheer in delight
I reach for my trusty pen
The mightiest of swords
And start to put to paper
If I can only find the words
But simple words elude me
And the voices shout so loud
But I concentrate my breathing
And words they flow so proud
I can hear the voices panic
Scattering all around
As the pen slides across the page
The voices barely make a sound
Deep down I quite suspect
Those voices are really mine
And if I can make it till tomorrow
Perhaps everything will be fine
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