The Voices

Voices on the surface,
Voices in the deep.
Everywhere, there they are,
Even when I’m asleep.

Controlling my thinking,
Obstructing my reality.
It’s moves me to actions,
Some of grave brutality.

Waking up, sliced and torn,
Gashes, wounds, blood and pain.
Forever scarred, forever cursed,
An existence unable to maintain.

The reflection in the mirror,
Portraying the silhouette of a man,
A man marked by his past transgressions,
It takes him back to where it all began.

That first cut in his young flesh,
That first sin committed to his own entity.
The gruesome violation of God’s creation,
Forever disfiguring his own identity.

The voices speak of righteousness,
The voices speak of benevolence.
It’s not my fault, it’s not a flaw,
It’s an act of irreverence.

And so they acted out of spite,
For many years mutilating his existence.
Nothing could halt their campaign,
And I was left without resistance.

Voices shaped my world,
Voices shaped my view.
They torture me indefinitely,
And tomorrow it will begin anew.