(A lone voice whispers)
Hello dear reader
My silent old curious friend
Have you returned
To read my surreal thoughts again
The ones I write here
With my favourite
Black and white pen
Stories and poems collected
From when I'm sleeping
When I listen to lost souls
When they are speaking
Of how they miss walking in the rain
Like grey wolves
And touching loved ones who still remain
Especially now
In 2025
Within this political winter
Lost in colourful visions
We talk in silence
Walking through some side streets
Filled with love or spiritual violence
To narrow side roads filled with cobblestone
As newly elected dictators or spectators
Try to run the old asylums
It's usually at three o'clock
When those quiet friendly voices stop
That I then see a brief flash of light
Lighting up the early morning night
They always appear
Standing on my right
Maybe twenty-five or more
Just hiding behind a shadowy door
More voices, always talking without speaking
As I stand
Quietly listening
They talk of dark things I'd 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 sound 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 and pray
Like the many fallen idols, they have 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 careful 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 only bring damnation
From the 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 magic
You now believe to be based on just science
So hello reader,
My silent old friend
Did you enjoy reading
my strange curious thoughts again
To here
The very end?
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
A dash of fun at 3 am.
Salute
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