Perceptive Glance

The whispers were faint at first, Now they've become regular chatterboxes. I hear them behind the eyes of passerbyers, As they believe they'll go unnoticed... I see their black smokey like tendrils Slowly stretching out to touch me, But are quickly repulsed as if Touching burning coals, or a burning light. These walks in the darkness especially after rain, Cool under foot, as reflections remind of Daily doings and the things that can go unnoticed. As I'm being consumed by personal desires And the everyday chase for everyday things, Yes, the chatter gets louder with wanting pleas, But they grow much fainter with self control.....