Voices

Grungy voices all around
mocking with my mind,
Do they even hear what they say?
or just keep on piling the crap like everyday.

There you go and fall and rebound,
but all they see is mud on you,
the mud that they made and spread,
which used to choke you and break you,
nonetheless now it's a part of water and bread.

Epidemic is what you may call it
As I see it in all
behind that pretentious smile,
that humble gesture,
that person consumed by the glance
of kids playing together.

Pause and observe
the hints they leave,
The feeble stare they share
of anger, apathy and despair.
The back luring to get embraced,
along with the fear of getting stabbed.

Nature treats the best and time heals like no other,
yet there is a time within the time all tangled
like a never ending loop,
unusual enough to be unreal,
always starts with the end note
as alone as it can get you in the group.

High on a belief of everything gets its way back surely one day,
Fate above belief
framing that day like a mirage
for him with a hope dwindling within the grey.

Above all are the voices,
the voices I possess,
better say they possess me,
An illusion where I always find myself in the square one,
no matter how much I set myself high and free.