The Wise Voice

A common thought that runs my mind,
Is one I never could define,
But I know there’s something I need to find,
Don’t know what it is, but I know it’s mine,
It eats at me when I’m lying in bed,
Keeps me awake with the spirits that thrive,
I have a rapport with the half living dead,
They cling to reason to stay alive,
Yet I think they know it’s a futile dream,
When the sun comes they fade with the night, with me,
I look in the mirror, I’m not what I seem,
I gaze into emptiness, a disgusting sight,
When I step out the door,
I feel the chill that the wind blows to me,
Can take it no more,
The way they all look through me,
Not at me with concern, or hatred, or even indifference,
I don’t even plan what to say or do anymore,
I offer no aid and I take no assistance, I start to forget what I am here for,
Then I remember I have something that’s mine,
I’m certain it doesn’t exist,
I don’t care, it’s a reason, that’s fine,
A calling that screamed, when once it just hissed,
I will never find it, it’s not real,
I will not stop ‘til I find it, it needs me,
I’m getting close, I know it, I can feel,
I will have it soon, then you will all see,
And you’ll bow down before me,
And I’ll cry on every head,
Then I will control every thought and deed,
I will decide when you speak and when you bleed,
That is what the wise voice said.