Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Silence of the Fiend

She shrieks at me again
This silence with a hoarse voice.
I close my ears to her ramblings
But she pries open my soul

Her tongue sharp

She cuts me to pieces
Wounding me like she has wounded me
Many times before.

I try to kill her — my tormentor.

But she just laughs, mocking me
Killing me like she has
Killed me many times before.

Again she shows me

They ring the loudest
The words that lurk underneath;
The voices we forbid to speak.

//Sherma E. Benosa; 14 August 2011; 8:41am
Tags: Existentialism, Poetry, Ramblings, Thoughts, Reflections, Literary Art, Rumination
First posted in
P[e]NORAMA

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