The Lone Whisper - Poem by Viraj Gupta
My life is filled with nights of no sleep.
Just tossing and turning in my bed.
The night brings along many things that makes me weep.
I can see death staring down at my head.
The blackness reminds me of who I am
It talks to me and tells me things.
It whispers late at night if it can.
It says suffering gives you wings.
It says pain is not bad.
That’s just a frame of our mind.
Pain is what releases us.
It says pain and death are kind.
It tells me of a life of slavery.
Being shackled to the chains.
The voice whispers about widespread war.
It whispers about pain
It talks to me about suffering.
It talks to me about pain.
It tells me of pleasant and unpleasant things.
The whisper, it can’t be tamed.
It says Death is not a rival.
Death is not unkind.
Death is what comes after a life of survival.
After living a life of slavery with no mind.
It says death is an escape.
Death is joyous ecstasy.
It brings a new landscape.
A land with new idiocy.
It fills my head with beautiful things.
It tells of a place where there are no arms to wield
It does not tell me what death clearly brings.
It just said that it is an eternal timeless field.
The whisper grew louder.
It grew into a scream.
It was something unexpected.
Maybe the voice is like the rest.
Fake, full of lies.
Full of gimmickry.
Full of incest.
The voice fed me words.
Words of revolt.
The voice stopped at last.
It left in me a growing sense of loneliness.
It grew in me till I had no more space left.
It made me into a seamless mist.
It made me cease to exist.
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