Voices
Why shouldn’t I listen to the voices in my head?
They tell me they want you dead,
To steal into your house,
Like the black of the night,
To tight you down,
To stop your fight,
To take a knife and with slow ease,
Mark your skin,
And cut you deep.I reveal in your blood which pours,
You soon won’t need it any more,
Why should you look so scared?
You know You wanted this too,
The scars you hide but to me shew,
Like a beacon they drew me,
Back to your door,
To do what you couldn’t,
I guess I wanted it more.As I stand over you,
dripping blade in hand,
I see you pleading,
Begging,
With eyes so scared,
Did you not want this?
Well its too late now,
I watch
Ever closer
As Your light
goes
out.
© 2006 Rob Jones