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There's someone here.

I hear the sound,

The quiet tread

Of feet on ground

And eerie cry

Of voice in air

That whirls and twirls

And lifts my hair

In chilly breeze

That stills my spine

And stops my heart,

This beat of mine

That is my voice,

That is my life,

The rhythm of

My battle fife

In this old war

I can't escape;

I fight a voice

Without a face

I memorize

To soon recall

When faced with men

Behind a wall

Of looming bars

And prison cells

For those who reek

Of crime to tell

And voice to cry

In my pained ears

That can't quite care

For what they hear

Now that it's done;

The voice is spent,

Now garbled like

The song it bent

Into a drum

Beating of death,

Beating so loud

In ears gone deaf

To voices dark

With piercing screams

That shatter glass

And shatter dreams,

Reality

That falls to dust

Around me still

In air of must

And treading feet

I can't define

Or follow on

Beyond the line

Of shadowed skies

Where breezes brew

And night is born,

Artfully drew

Out from my heart,

Out from my mind,

Sends shivers down

My aching spine

That's so confused

And drowned in words

From one more voice

It hasn't heard

In innocence

And sheltered life

That broke too long

Before this night.

Where has it gone?

This heart of mine

That hit the road

With no outline

Or path set out

To follow through,

A course that's left

All up to you,

Ambitious Me

That took the chance

Without a thought

Or second glance

Where danger lurks

And waits to prey

On innocence

Or girls that play

Beyond the bounds

Layed out for them

To keep them safe

Or box them in

In their mindset,

In their belief,

In their desire

To be set free

On their own whims,

On their own voice,

A voice that will

Leave them no choice

But to listen

And listen well

To all the fear-

Filled lies it tells

And sounds it makes

When free at night

In deep, dark woods

So void of light

That call to them,

Those bright, young hearts,

And leave them to

Be ripped apart

At their own fault,

In their own game,

By their own voice

Who led astray

Their aching soul,

Their tired pride,

With promises

Hollow inside.

So silence calls;

It has its turn;

It's pleasant now;

It cools the burn

Of flaming noise,

Its fiery song

That stretched its notes

For way too long

To spare the ears

Of youth it caged

In binding trance

Etched on this page

In rhyming words

And broken lines

So ever-hurt

And ever-mine,

Ever my voice,

Ever my chance

To make it last,

The healing dance,

The silent dance

That pulls my mind

Away from sounds

I dread to find

Within my mind,

Beyond trapdoors

I've locked and sealed

Forevermore.

The voice, it creeps,

Seeps out the cracks;

The notes, they ring,

Can't be put back,

So all can hear,

If they so choose,

Hear what did cause

This purple bruise

Upon my soul,

Upon my brain,

And play a part

In this sick game

Of voices dark

And always new,

No matter how

Old or reused

Or garbled in tongue

And indistinct

Faded, wasted,

But on the brink

Of something new

And frightening

I'd rather not

Be here to see,

But here I am,

Locked in this place

In silent chains

I don't escape

Because life's here;

It's sad but true,

So fear aside,

The voice rings through.

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We hear so many voices. Our friends' voices, the world's voices, our voices... It's so confusing, isn't it? Who did we listen to? When? Why? Where do we go next? Where do we want to go? Those questions aren't easy to answer, not even that last one. In fact, deciding where we want to go is often the biggest battle. And we should be warned, be wary. Because the place our heart wants to go is most often the place we end up reaching.