Listen to poem:
My Inner Voice Told Me
Written: June 08, 2025, contest Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon.
Quote "Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder." By RUMI
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As the soft fingers of dawn spread light,
And dusk fades, in a hollow sight.
A mumbling incoherence stirs within my soul,
My muddled mind benumbed, lacking control.
It hums quietly in the glow of the moon,
A wave that goes unseen under the flow of noon.
Proles of spasmodic gait lead me to a chaotic tide,
Where anxieties ease, and concerns subside.
No passing fancy, no shallow sound,
But wisdom is weaved, madly wound.
A beacon illuminated by love's lance,
A strong blaze that endures time's dance.
It whispers a soft but asinine song,
A mesalliance whispers right and wrong.
Red coral compass made by a cosmic hand,
To keep me secure, against the macabre's stand.
Once silenced by clairsentience fears,
Fumbled under jugged crushing years.
But embers sparked and cacophony revived,
A child's voice— a robotic drone thrived!
Now in a rhythm of bliss, hand in hand,
We dance where quiet whimsy musing stands.
No longer achingly chained, fog, or fright,
Only mirrors of ecstasy carved in gold light.
So I sail the swell, in harmony and trust,
No need for clamor or whimsical must.
For my unencumbered voice, free to rejoice,
Has always known—this is the right choice.
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