Voice

The silence deafens

My ears, they ring

My voice, it rises

on distant wings.

The words just flow

so naturally

in languages,

French, or Japanese

in accents

foreign and familiar

in this formerly blank interior.

The space is filled

with life and sounds

of musi cand gods

of the underground,

voices high with blithe elation

or low,

and irate as a conflagration.

Any emotion in between

in my voice, is heard,

not seen.

For it one speaks

so fervently,

it is not so burdensome

to see