Whisper, Whisper

An old poem from a year or two ago.

Whisper, whisper,

do you hear them whisper?

Voices calling,

it's your name they're calling. 

Darkness emerging,

opening its mouth,

swallowing you whole.

Drown in the abyss.

Deception, deception,

Who is lying?

Jeering, leering voices

or the ones from within?

Lock the doors, 

bar the doors.

There is knocking on the doors. 

Don't let them in.

Dead debris from the lack of touch.

Dusty shelves without a touch.

Singing low with all the voices,

all the echoes, 

of your own.

Reviews

[Androglossia]

On the verge of sanity? No I don't want to call it that way. It's the thoughts that haunt us and the same thoughts we are trying to escape from. Or is it the part of us we have been trying to imprison? Reality is slowly breaking down the walls from which we have kept them. That's how I understand your poem. Haunting. Great work!

[cilla]

This is really excellent. Focused with a nightmarish sense ... repeated words like echoes and fear and dread and finally the realization ... "all the echoes of your own."

Truly excellent and your best work. Kudos to you!

[N.Sevilla]

Thank you so much for your review!