My life is filled with nights of no sleep. <br />Just tossing and turning in my bed. <br />The night brings along many things that makes me weep. <br />I can see death staring down at my head. <br /> <br />The blackness reminds me of who I am <br />It talks to me and tells me things. <br />It whispers late at night if it can. <br />It says suffering gives you wings. <br /> <br />It says pain is not bad. <br />That’s just a frame of our mind. <br />Pain is what releases us. <br />It says pain and death are kind. <br /> <br />It tells me of a life of slavery. <br />Being shackled to the chains. <br />The voice whispers about widespread war. <br />It whispers about pain <br /> <br />It talks to me about suffering. <br />It talks to me about pain. <br />It tells me of pleasant and unpleasant things. <br />The whisper, it can’t be tamed. <br /> <br />It says Death is not a rival. <br />Death is not unkind. <br />Death is what comes after a life of survival. <br />After living a life of slavery with no mind. <br /> <br />It says death is an escape. <br />Death is joyous ecstasy. <br />It brings a new landscape. <br />A land with new idiocy. <br /> <br />It fills my head with beautiful things. <br />It tells of a place where there are no arms to wield <br />It does not tell me what death clearly brings. <br />It just said that it is an eternal timeless field. <br /> <br />The whisper grew louder. <br />It grew into a scream. <br />It was something unexpected. <br />Something unseen. <br /> <br />Maybe the voice is like the rest. <br />Fake, full of lies. <br />Full of gimmickry. <br />Full of incest. <br /> <br />The voice fed me words. <br />Words of revolt. <br />The voice stopped at last. <br />It left in me a growing sense of loneliness. <br /> <br />It grew in me till I had no more space left. <br />It made me into a seamless mist. <br />It made me cease to exist.<br /><br />Viraj Gupta<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lone-whisper/
