The Coming Sound

Mon, 06/20/2016 - 09:53 -- kptml

Whispers come in the breeze,

Whether by sea or

Through the leaves

 

They always know just

What your mind

Is trying to hide

And they laugh at

Your ineptitude

With a harsh,

Throaty belch that

Sounds something like

The monster voices 

Children use in their play

 

Except this isn't play

 

The demonesque voices

Chatter in the wind

Pretending to house innocence

Beneath their batting lashes

And youthful sound,

But when they turn around

They greet you with

The greatest of fears

 

Whispers

 

They come in the night,

They come through the shadows,

They come when you least expect it,

But always,

They come

 

No moment are you safe

From the terrors your 

Own being tries to shield

You from

 

The only escape is to go ahead,

Go ahead

And embrace their sound

This poem is about: 
Me

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