Voices

They haunt me always    
but tonight is different    
the voices in my head
are changed    
no longer thin distant whispers    
all four begin their call    
each one demanding more    
    
I may tattoo mad on my forehead    
a warning to the world    
From my eyes thoughts stretch on stalks    
constructing themselves into sentences    
a jumbled stream of shouting capitals    
spilling sense and non sense    
in untidy chaotic piles    
    
Sounds from outside
grow muffled    
insanity swoops
to land between my ears    
roosting unopposed    
like a terrible dark bird    
merciless and eager to peck    
    
I hear the voice    
of a stillborn child    
she begs for life    
I see the baby's bloody remains    
hurried away to the fire    
smell her bones burning    
She is pleading    
for a single moment with mother    
Sinews crackle    
as half formed fingers reach from flame    
the tiny bundle    
becomes a handful of ash    
    
I hear the voice    
of a dying soldier    
clutching his sweetheart's picture    
as his heart breaks for one last kiss    
realizing he is never to marry    
far from home in mud and blood    
knowing bitter death alone    
Cut down for myths of glory
that once inspired    
no Queen and country bravado now    
he asks me only    
never to forget    
    
I hear the voice    
of an aging Aunt    
gin soaked hem brushing embers    
caressing the fire
that's eager to gulp her nightdress whole    
She stumbles confused    
through an upstairs window    
screaming a message as she falls    
but I never understand    
and her words are lost    
in a fading echo    
the most terrible voice    
of them all    
    
The fourth voice is my own    
It tries to soothe    
tells me    
nothing matters    
only silence    
only life    
holding sway over death    
but I hear it    
only in the moment    
only in the moment    
as I speak now