The voice

I heard the voice — whirling in my ears
like a breeze whistling on leaves
with the bluster of November not expecting
December to overshadow it — though 
in my delirium I could not find it.

The voice — alien and incoherent as it seized
my mind without a through to the impression
it left — told me to leave (bounded
in lunacy and invisible) to 
the irrational rabble wrapped in regret.

Was it mania — a psychic knot tied
to some forgotten tram unspooling and
unwelcome — or merely benign?
I am not delusional enough 
to think I know the difference.

Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for a few prompts:

I am thrilled, delighted, terrified and other emotions to announce that my first collection of poetry — PAINT THE LIVING PLANT THE DEAD — is now available to purchase. Check it out!

30 thoughts on “The voice

  1. Amazing piece, Phillip! The voice, whether our sub-conscious or from another source can be unnerving. Do we dare to listen?

    I love the imagery, the pace and especially the finale! Thank you so much for joining the challenge.


  2. Introspection can be unnerving indeed. As an actor I released several unfamiliar faces and voices. Each of us are so much more than we perceive.


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