Voice
“I am here,” the Voice whispered. “I am with all of you once again.”
“What was that? Aye? Who’s here?” people were disturbed.
“I am here,” the Voice whispered. “I am with all of you once again.”
“What was that? Aye? Who’s here?” people were disturbed.
I will return to you again, and it shall be very soon. Much sooner than many would like it to happen.
We are no longer the ones we used to be. Our past burned in the flame of self-rebirth, leaving the place for the Now, which has become a bridge to the Future.
I am a voice of evolution,
I am a bringer of confusion,
I am a whisper in the noise,
I am a teller of the choice.
What does one strife for if not success?
Constantly pressured, each day in stress?
What do I care? Listen or not —
Poem’s successful, still being hot.
I have been given flaming blade
To pierce night and fight with shade,
And it is glowing with that fire
The source of which is my desire.
The webs of past are thick to hack,
And maze of life is cold and dark,
There are no torches on its walls …
You wander by without goals.
I feel I don't belong there, yet this is my world for now.
I feel like I am a sinner and a saint — all in one.
It is the dream of my origin,
For in the dreams I am still virgin,
And still I’m fighting with my sleep,
But hesitate to make a leap.
The Modern One, I was a fool,
The Heartless One, I was your tool,
The Sunless One, I could be light…
I am yet again alone in night.
Прохор Озорнин