All voices are now placed in a void.
Thoughts then race, creating a distorted noise.
Sentiments scream a soliloquy,
Saneness becoming barren.
A speck of vigor for its potency,
The angry storms will then lessen.
Tenacity to grasp its essence,
Undemanding yet far complex.
Dullness surround the aura,
Choices were not made,
Because there never was a choice to make.
Such an uncomfortable state.
A voice called to me,
And a glass of water I now hold.
- Gail Bautista