The voices come in the middle of the night They tell me bad things and I'm in fright I want to die and hang my head Then pray to God and wish I'm dead The spirits come and control my soul And in no way do I feel whole My life is being sapped out of me Though I try I can not see The future is dark, the present is dim I try to fight but I can not win Darkness enters, surrounds my eyes I go blind and ask no why's I'm dying slowly, I'm filled with fear I cry for help but no one's there Like I expected some one to care So here I lie, drifting away It's poetic justice to end the day Soon I'll go I'll be no more At the end of the hall, I'll close that door I close my eyes, and darkness will form As I become a whisper, a whisper in the storm
© 2005, Allen Scott Culp I
