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The Voice

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You hear the words I speak,
But you don’t hear my Voice.
It is where you have forced me to put it;
Chained,
Alone,
Dying.
From fear of it causing me pain,
I locked it up,
Where only I can listen to it.
It whispers too me,
A soft, sweet sound like the breath of an angel,
Invisible beauty.
If only you could hear the words,
You would know why I am who I am.
But it is not always happy.
Some days,
It turns its pain into fury,
Throbbing my skull like a deep bass,
Urging me to unleash its wrath upon the unworthy,
But I don’t.
Hard as it is to keep the prison cell bolted shut,
And painful as it is to watch it writhe,
I leave it where it is.
It is everything you have rejected-
The prophet,
The bard singing songs of joy,
The Romeo,
The vengeful demon seeking human flesh.
If I release it,
No matter its form,
You will never see me the same again.
How many times it urges me to profess my feelings,
Make the shameful fantasies of the girl in front of me reality,
But I can’t.
A false voice masquerading as mine
Takes its place upon my lips.
When I say,
“Okay. Its none of my business what you do on Saturdays,”
The Voice screams,
“No!
You stoned son of a b****!
I can’t be friends with the likes of you!”
Or when I say,
“What?
Oh,
I guess her ass is nice,
I’ve never really thought about it...”
The Voice says,
“Oh, The way it sways
like a cobra about to strike!
Damn sexy!”
But I’ll never say it out loud.
The Voice is white,
But not pure.
Like Saruman, it is of many colors,
But not evil.
It is just untamed,
Uncensored,
Raw humanity in all its gorgeous faults,
Restricted only by the manacles tight around its neck.
One day, I may release it,
But it is not this day.
I fear it will fade,
Growing softer by the second,
Until all that remains,
Is the empty cell,
And the costume,
I displayed for you.
But if I do release it,
Will you accept it?
The real me,
All my secrets,
And the truths you shall not hear.
The Voice,
When projected across the globe,
Could begin a revolution!
Correcting the crimes
And redefining equality.
But maybe you will deny it,
Slicing off your ears to keep it away.
To you,
It could be satanical mutiny against society,
When all it is
Is fearlessness,
A quality I have never had.
As the doubts of its power increase,
The chains grow stronger,
The Voice may never escape.
So I leave it up to you:
Do I throw it the key?





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