•••
There are whispers.
Along my ear pipers.
They're the bad,
Who makes me sad.
They slowly kill.
It's their will.
You'll jump the hill.
Where they stand still.
They're your lover.
Well, not your hater.
You'll meet them later,
If you din't die better.
You'll be wrong,
As they gong.
You commit mistakes,
Without any takes.
— We sometimes hear those whispers by our ears. It command us to be bad, not just to hurt others but also to hurt ourselves. It's hard not to listen to them, 'cause it sometimes let us feel that they're the only one left for us.
