Voices

I hear them.

There are times when they are loudest, strongest, smartest,

but they are never quieted.

I can feel their breath on my ear.

They crowd around me,

whispering.

They speak of death, and black, and kill,

of things I am not familiar.

In their world,

everyone is the enemy.

Everyone has a weapon.

Everyone has a thirst for blood.

They tell me to act first.

They give me the key to my soul,

my power,

and persuade me that even my shadow bears malevolence.

I hunt,

I kill,

I cover the remains.

I return to them, expecting welcome—

but greeted with anger.

Where are the bodies? they cry.

Why are they resting? they cry.

They should be bathed in gold!

Framed on walls!

Praised in temples!

Why have you hidden them?

Unsure, trembling, I make my stand.

I lower my head.

I uncover the bodies—

Before the sun sets, the Law has found me.

The voices,

they shriek abuse, neglect, insurgence.

I sit in chains.

One stoops down to whisper in my ear, ever so softly, ever so scathingly,

Welcome to insanity…