The Third Voice
Spin and curl in nights tangled cradle,
a puzzling witness.
A breakless brain buzzes on -
an endless blunt toothed saw.
The body belches and rumbles
tirelessly works to produce
the odd snort or snore.
All is a stepless stasis on an escalator
speeding to nowhere,
just the random outtakes
from under-rehearsed thoughts,
dying moths dropping into darkness
At last, flesh becomes a glove for a ghost.
A see-through voice,
one that had been left aside
ventures now to charm time.
This is how the All speaks, said one voice.
This is how the All listens, said the other.
A third voice says:
and here is the grace of silence.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
