contre jour,
One gentle, uneventful night, an eve whose air was pleasant, cool,
I sat inside my room alright, unguarded just like any fool,
I was, engrossed, I think, in work, perhaps in other worlds immersed,
Unaware was I in darkness lurked, something by the light accursed,
It spoke to me, 'I know you well, I know what goes on in your head.'
It had my voice, that I could tell, this thing that seemed to presage dread
But of course, not being free, I did not wish to heed the voice,
'I have my work, away with ye,' I told the creature with its ploys
But it did not stop, the whisperer, for on my nape it had its place,
'But I am you as you ponder,' it spoke with charm and grace,
'I know of all the things you think and of all the things you fear,’
Then its voice suddenly rising, ‘For example—'
'Shut up,' I said to the whisperer
‘—that you’ll die alone. Look at your—’
‘Shut up,’ again, I say.
‘—friendships all going to flames. There’s no-one
to fall back on. Why not jump the gun—’
‘Shut up, shut up,’ I repeat.
‘—and just give up? You can barely write now,
And each word you place are no more endowed—'
‘Shut up, shut up, shut up.’
‘—with beauty or feelings or deep meaning.
You’ve burned out, you’ve reached your peak, you’re falling.
You’re held up by a foundation of reputation, but you’re nothing.’
I close my eyes and cover my ears
But the voice goes on and on
Inside my head
‘Or maybe I was wrong, and you won’t die alone,
I’ll be with you whatever happens, you’ll never be alone’
Literary (Submission): The Voice In My Head
One gentle, uneventful night, an eve whose air was pleasant, cool,
I sat inside my room alright, unguarded just like any fool,
I was, engrossed, I think, in work, perhaps in other worlds immersed,
Unaware was I in darkness lurked, something by the light accursed,
It spoke to me, 'I know you well, I know what goes on in your head.'
It had my voice, that I could tell, this thing that seemed to presage dread
But of course, not being free, I did not wish to heed the voice,
'I have my work, away with ye,' I told the creature with its ploys
But it did not stop, the whisperer, for on my nape it had its place,
'But I am you as you ponder,' it spoke with charm and grace,
'I know of all the things you think and of all the things you fear,’
Then its voice suddenly rising, ‘For example—'
'Shut up,' I said to the whisperer
‘—that you’ll die alone. Look at your—’
‘Shut up,’ again, I say.
‘—friendships all going to flames. There’s no-one
to fall back on. Why not jump the gun—’
‘Shut up, shut up,’ I repeat.
‘—and just give up? You can barely write now,
And each word you place are no more endowed—'
‘Shut up, shut up, shut up.’
‘—with beauty or feelings or deep meaning.
You’ve burned out, you’ve reached your peak, you’re falling.
You’re held up by a foundation of reputation, but you’re nothing.’
I close my eyes and cover my ears
But the voice goes on and on
Inside my head
‘Or maybe I was wrong, and you won’t die alone,
I’ll be with you whatever happens, you’ll never be alone’
0 comments: