. Poetry from The Great In-Between: An old voice speaks

Saturday, July 17, 2021

An old voice speaks

 






The Mage Speaks

(A lone voice whispers)

Hello dear reader  
My silent old friend

Have you returned to read my translucent hypnotic thoughts again

The one's I write here sometimes 
With my favourite black and white pen

Stories and poems collected from when I'm sleeping

When I listen to lost souls when they gather and slowly start speaking

Stories of how they miss walking in the rain

And touching their loved ones who still in the realms of the living remain

Especially now in 2021 with this virus

Lost in poetic visions we converse in silence

Walking through some streets
Filled with love or political violence

To narrow green fields or side roads filled with yellow cobblestones

As newly elected dictators try to run the old asylums

It's usually at three o'clock when those quiet friendly voices suddenly stop

That I then see a brief flash of crimson light

Lighting up the early morning night

Then they who shall not be named always appear
  
Standing on my right

Maybe twenty-five or more
Just hiding behind a shadowy door

More voices but louder 

Pleading and always talking without speaking

As I stand spiritually in the Astral Realms
Quietly listening

They talk of dark things I could never share

For if I did they said they'd haunt you too

Since they just love stalking the unprepared

I'll now go and no more disturb your sounds of silence

For even fools knows like cancer trouble grows

Hear these words and when they try to call

Knocking to tempt you up at three o'clock

Before the early morning cock crows

Like quiet raindrops which echo in white noise

As they hide hidden from view

From a strange place that no one knows

No matter how hard they beg or pray

Like the many fallen idols, they have already made

Use these words as flashing warning signs

That I send  

Before they try to get you to play
While pretending to be a friend 

Listen to these words as they are forming
And heed them as a carefully spoken warning

Those that walk like lost prophets
In between the many dimly lit subway walls  

In complete silence

Always avoid them like the plague with defiance

For they'll only bring damnation
From their secluded islands

Like seductive but sinister sirens

For they are mankind's hunters
Who stalks the living like Enoch's biblical giants

Who wants to license your soul to pledges and passports

Where there is no hope for guidance

For they wish to rule and be your new tyrant

As you are seduced by their old supernatural magic 

You now believe to be based on just science


Copyright John Duffy

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