Poetry

The Voice

As she searches her reaches for who she really is
As she listens keenly, hoping to hear what she is
As she looks into herself to see how pure she is
The voice calls her, draws her towards itself.

As she feels lower than ever, sad and solitary
As she weeps in silence, tears fall bitterly
As she agitates against the world, something grasps her attention tenderly
The voice, the voice within her bare soul.

It indicates to her, about her lost innocence
It instills within her, a sense of love and kindness
It is the only thing that keeps her going
The voice, the voice within her bare soul.