Voices
The dawn of a new day,
I feel like crap.
My eyes tear with blood,
yet still my thoughts are fresh
Of a voice that passes through the ear.
Pressures rise
for it encourages the limbs
to an almost lock.
Engaged in combat
with an enemy
I cannot see or hear.
An inner conflict
too difficult to solve,
or else it eats away your will.
Yet still my thoughts are clear
of a voice that passes through the ear.
Simple earthly days
turn into periods of time
that dulls the light of day.
When the moon rises,
and the stars shine bright
most will feel that
it returns them sane.
One flame
of a country scented candle
that my eyes may look upon,
for I am still not at ease.
Yet still my thoughts become louder
from a voice that passes through the ear.
That inferno burning inside is an
animal ready to explode that refuses to sleep.
My mind controls the outburst,
more tears out of the eye.
Yet I know it will soothe with
A voice that passes through the ear.
copyright 1998 Mike San Juan
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