There are voices in my head,

urging me to take that one step,
or are they a couple?

Will I break with the fall,
or will I soar to make my eagle nest,
elusive to the world.

The voices pull me in different directions,
I pause and look at the flickering red light,
and count the seconds,
but the voices jam,
and there’s a sudden cacophony,
almost rude in its tone.
The pulse races,
a purple haze surrounds me.

I open my eyes,
to the sunshine,
to the soft sounds of pattering feet,
which rush forward on the woodwork,
and thrust open my door.

The soft hands encircle my face,
and gurgle words,
that put the fears of the world at rest.

Will the voices come back,
maybe they will,
during some unforeseen twilight.


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