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A thousand, thousand voices,

Within, without, around,

Whisper the same, same things,

With different faces,

Different sounds.

 

Some travel through pictures,

Others through wires,

Most often through ink,

They skillfully conspire.

 

The First Voice –

Hark this shrewd sound!

Awfully it speaks!

It calls me worthless.

It says no love for me.

Like Ares painfully,

It taunts, hurts, and teases.

 

The Second Voice –

It says of me,

Lovely wonderful things.

Of arrogance and flattery,

This voice is born.

Like Narcissus I'd die,

If I listened longer.

 

The Third Voice –

Different from the rest,

This one is quite unique.

No tearing speech,

Or flattering tongue,

This voice speak the truth,

The truth in love.

 

It tells me I'm flawless

It tells me I'm loved.

It's easy to listen to two voices above,

But the last voice,

The third voice,

Is the voice that I love,

Because it speaks

Truth,

The

Truth in love.

 

 

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