Title: The Voices Within Poem by ashok jadhav

(The speaker paces nervously, eyes darting around the room, occasionally whispering to invisible figures. Their tone shifts between urgency, fear, and manic excitement.)
Monologue:
Do you hear them?
Do you hear the whispers in the walls, the shadows that move when no one is there?
They speak to me. They know me.
They tell me secrets… terrible, wonderful secrets…
and I can't… I cannot ignore them.
They say things no one else can hear.
They say things that must be true.
And yet… sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror,
and I do not recognize this face.
Who is staring back at me?
Who… am I really?
People say I'm crazy.
They say I imagine things.
They say I should take pills, be quiet, behave…
But they don't hear the symphony of voices,
the laughter that follows me, the eyes that watch me from corners…
I am not imagining. I am seeing. I am hearing.
And yet, I fear… I fear I am alone in it.
Sometimes I speak to them.
I argue. I bargain. I beg.
And they answer… or perhaps it is me answering myself.
Does it matter? Does it matter if it is real
if it feels more real than anything else in this dull, empty world?
And still… I feel the cracks.
The world slips through my fingers.
Reality bends. I cannot hold it.
Am I the master, or the puppet?
Am I alive… or only pretending,
while the truth dances just out of reach, laughing at me?
(Pauses, voice low, trembling.)
I am not alone. I am never alone.
The walls speak. The shadows move.
And I… I must listen.
I must follow.
Because if I stop…
if I stop listening…
I will vanish…
into nothing.
(The speaker collapses to the floor, eyes wide, trembling, whispering incoherently as if the voices are all around them.)