The Coming Sound

Mon, 06/20/2016 - 09:53 -- kptml

Whispers come in the breeze,

Whether by sea or

Through the leaves


They always know just

What your mind

Is trying to hide

And they laugh at

Your ineptitude

With a harsh,

Throaty belch that

Sounds something like

The monster voices 

Children use in their play


Except this isn't play


The demonesque voices

Chatter in the wind

Pretending to house innocence

Beneath their batting lashes

And youthful sound,

But when they turn around

They greet you with

The greatest of fears




They come in the night,

They come through the shadows,

They come when you least expect it,

But always,

They come


No moment are you safe

From the terrors your 

Own being tries to shield

You from


The only escape is to go ahead,

Go ahead

And embrace their sound

This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741