The Swell of Voices


The Swell of Voices

By Tony DeLorger © 2011

A swell of voices like a gale in darkest night,

invades my mind and entreats my lucidity,

to write its siren like words of nature’s breath.

They speak of lost times and spirits old and removed,

lifeless apparitions that have left the marrow of intent.

Their dashed dreams and cut short aspirations,

hover above me, their voices shallow and imprecise.

But they are there and I listening to the swell of them,

their collective human past, pain and anger.

Why do they haunt me, their chatter ceaseless,

their desperation gnawing at me.

What can I do, caught in this web of human existence?

How am I a remedy for rest,

a hand of passive slumber to dispense at will.

Why me, to hear the echoes of the lost,

remnant lives begging for peaceful conclusion.

I wish rest myself, without their cold embrace,

without their voices ringing in my ears.

God, let them sleep, take the bitter as spent,

and find rest in the anonymity of death.

Let past be done, not future sustain,

the woes in shadow of memories still held.

Please die the wind that haunts me,

that whistles in my brain,

that I may find night and sweet oblivion.

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Comments 2 comments

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Tony DeLorger 5 years ago from Adelaide, South Australia Author

Thanks again rorshak and thanks for reading.

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rorshak sobchak 5 years ago

Awesome. This is a deep write up. I really enjoyed it.

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