Whispers, like echoes of a faint past, crowd around me
They bathe me with their memories, their impositions
Laying pathways of guilt and gossip across my soul
Speaking softly of sins and sorrows that are not mine
they drive my nightmares to the brink of exhaustion
and beyond into the calm, quiet void of sociopathy
When the time comes, the voices fade away into slumber
visions of oblivion are overlayed with laughter and hope
I live to serve the good of the many, to subsume the one
To enter into love more deeply than that of romance
To eschew affecting affairs of absolute attrition,
begging death and bragging of the broken coffins
It is time to go soon, to my graded addiction
waiting for the wrong things to happen at the wrong time
to talk to my salvation and absolve her inheritance
hoping, maybe, that in that fire lies my own absolution
Poet Dragon
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-whispers/
