Auricular (Poetry)

06th August 2017
It comes calling from out of the darkness —
a voice full of sorrow and pain
low as the moan of the dying
then it falls into silence again

There are nights when it whispers a warning
and others it croons like a dove
but always it ceases by morning
leaving echoes drained empty of love

The words form a language familiar
in couplets — a chorus of verse
repeated — the magic of mantra
or the tail end of some kind of curse

It haunts me — it hunts me — it finds me
its frequency locked in my brain
so I listen and seek to unravel
its message — half-driven insane

There’ve been times it sounds sweetly seductive
or confides like an intimate friend
but then the tone turns to destructive
and pure bitterness flows without end

I’m perplexed and confused by those changes
it’s a puzzle to know who to blame
I should recognize who it is taunts me
but I dither — still stumped for a name

Then a clue susurrates through the chaos
and a thought cuts its way to the bone
as I shrink from the strange observation
that the voice sounds a lot like my own