Voices
Make them stop, a cry erupts forward
the voices surrounding bay for more
wanting blood, only his will do, will make them stop
he cuts, the crimson comes forth in drips and drops.
An escape he has used before, scars he tries to disguise
what would be his legacy? Torn flesh, feels despised
a million tears cried, another million dried inside
heart empty, lost, for all the people he pushed aside.
The sounds in his mind, say this is his fate
his way to take away pain, lose the lead weight
rather than let them get in again
lets it flow free, lets his mind drain
Wishes and hopes must have been misplaced
the genie must have ripped up his notes in disgrace
as he cuts free another piece
soon he will fade from view, nothing to see
As if his head is filled with a thousand people
all telling him that he isn’t wanted,this is their temple
he needs to depart it, or they will make is life hell
their home, no longer in control, not his own story to tell
No longer exists in his own mind
just a figment a fragment of time
as the sounds growl and roar
Can’t take anymore
A guiding hand pushes away the blade
an arm on his shoulder breaks through his minds shade
Medication dulls the crowd, no longer out to hurt
life in his hands for the first time, no longer covered in dirt
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