The kind of voices that are broken .
The kind of voices that quiver
while composing poetry .
The kind of voices that are always
so timid to hear distinctly .
The kind of voices that are afraid ,
the kind of voices that are
haunted by ache ,
the kind of voices that are scarred .
The kind of voices that speak so less ,
but when do , speak words that
send a shiver down your spine ,
a tickle through your forehead
and your breathing gets caught
in your throat ,
and all you want to do ,
is to let your every particle in your
body to dance and twirl to the
music of that voice -
The curtain of your eyes dropping ,
your arms raising and reaching
towards the sky above ,
the toes of your feet suddenly are
strong enough to be moved on with
harmony and grace and pain and love
and beauty and scars and melancholy
and intoxication and obsession and a
weird- weird -peculiar -very peculiar
kind of - happiness , levity , joy ...
Those kind of voices ...
Hallelujah .
Hallelujah .
Hallelujah .
YOU ARE READING
i n s i d e h e r b e e h i v e
Poetry" where she is the queen " At this point, my words don't even mean anything, my lines are random, my meanings are all over the place, my endings are left in the middle. I've not the slightest idea if I can compose something coherent. It all feels li...
