Voice

Voice

A Poem by The Cynic
"

A little fragment about emotional expression.

"

Scream; dare to dream.

Leave your hot breath in the air.

or the steam just turns to ice.

Let’s just see if you really dare.

Before your lungs just freeze up.

Fill them up.

Point your head up.

Your words flow up.

See if your breath does suffice.

 

Feel; dare what’s real.

Leave your blood on the piano;

Boiling, cold, it doesn’t matter;

there’s enough to go around, no?

There’s a cut right on your finger.

Right there, on your middle finger.

But you’re using just that finger.

For one note, one blood-stained note

that memory you never wrote

that one person who you think smote

you, mind and soul.

 

Souls inside us, dare be cold!

To dare such risk is an addiction;

To make one’s heart an open wound;

extinguish fact and make life fiction.

you comfortable there on the ground?

you gonna stick there, stay around?

or do you want your breath not found?

mental rumor, or Sanguine humor?

ember slight, or Inner light?

shapeless form, or Cloud of storm?

lifelong hush, or Forward rush?

It is true we’ve not been asked,

but in silence we can’t bask

so that we’ll tell you what we think

with one last thought here, on the brink:

we, of course, prefer the latter.

© 2010 The Cynic


Author's Note

The Cynic
Like most anything else I've posted so far, this is a first draft. Reviews/criticism always welcome :]

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Reviews

Icy, trending and daring... the science of cold sings out thru your idea to use your voice to enliven the world and yourself.... musing.



Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on September 24, 2010
Last Updated on September 24, 2010