The Voice


This a voice that nobody hears.
It screams and scratches the walls,
Only to listen to itself and see the blood protruding from the nail.
The voice speaks a language that no one understands.
No matter how they decided to translate,
The words are as lost as a little orphan under the rocky pile of rubble.
It’s knocking, crying, and dying.
But, would anyone bother to lend the voice a hand?
Every day, the autumn leaves are withering on the chilly hard floor.
No family to love and no friends to trust.
The voice is a social creature, you see.
Despite what it lacks, it simply creates whatever it pleases.
Another voice is inside the voice’s head.

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