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Voice
I like to call it Voice,
for the sheer irony of it being soundless.
It's the empty world that lives in my head,
not exactly a nightmare,
but yet it makes me cry and scared until I'm breathless.
Once you leave for Voice
you can't go back.
Sometimes I wonder
as time goes by,
as we all slowly die,
Am I slipping into Voice?
Am I slipping into soundless?
Where am I falling?
Am I falling?
Even though I look up
and I can see the stars,
I can see the warmth
in the black in between.
I can see it and feel it,
but why can't I feel Voice?
Why doesn't it leave my head?
What if it does exist?
What if it exists soundless?
Can you save me?
What's left of me?
Save me from soundless?
Can you scream into Voice,
rattle it, just for me not to cry anymore?
If you can sing into Voice
You sing for me,
You save me.
As you sing into Voice,
Just to hold me in hope,
You woke up Voice,
and Voice is singing for you.
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