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The Voice
| Open Poetry #50 |
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The Voice |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA 
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I heard it first at early age, I'd guess at maybe...ten? The voice that seldom falls upon the ears of other men. It bade me hark, it bade me come; to tread a path unknown To search the hidden mysteries which time had overgrown. To delve in those forgotten tomes, for tales of yester year- When knights of old, or robbers bold, held common men in fear. To tread forgotten beaches where buccaneers once trod- and quickly learn how to discern, the common from the odd. That voice which calls young people and tempst them with romance And makes a thousand warriors, at dawn, with Death to dance. The siren call heard by them all, who will not bow to time But carry so-called "progress" to every land and clime. That voice inspired the artists, to spread their souls in paint- And told the great explorers, "Press on, and never faint". And caused forsaken prisoners to not give up their hope- That voice drove many others, like Poe, to turn to dope. I wonder, now in passing, was he regretful hearer? Or maybe did his laudnum. make the voice a little clearer? Sometimes the voice is low and sweet, and laden with instruction- Sometime it's frightening and deep, like some arcane eruption. I've known the voice to stir my heart, with joy make me sing- Yet sometime it calls me apart, and melancholy brings. Sometimes it's but a whisper, to tantalize the ear- This voice I've known, which drives me on, but others cannot hear. I bid them "Won't you hearken?" They listen carefully- Then gaze at me in pity, while they think, "Insanity"! I caution< "Can't you hear it"? But all to no avail- I listen, hear; and then I write- "Another Traveler's Tale". |
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