I try to communicate with you but you just get in a rage, doesn’t matter if I try to speak or put it on a page. I talk a lot but no one ever hears, my voice only echoes back through my ears. I could shout from a mountain top, it would not leave a blot, would it really bother you? cos you don’t give a jot.
My voice echoes inside this empty vessel trying to make you hear but you may as well not be here, my voice travels nowhere near. All I want is for you to hear, to speak without fear, without ridicule and for you not to sneer. So, when the words come out all the same it’s because I’ve said them over again.
Your attention I must gain this saga is becoming in vain, to say what I want to say, nothing inside my soul but anger and dismay. My thoughts are only decay, communication is such a tough game to play, its driving me insane again and again, overloading my brain.
Rhythm of the Ink 