The Icy Voices.

The icy wind,
Brushes my cheek,
Freezing my hands,
Now so weak,
Blue in colour,
Like the blue skies I seek,
The voices that I hear,
Never cease to speak.

They tell me of a girl,
That has nothing to give,
This is the voices who tell,
They never forgive,
They remember everything,
That she’s ever done,
She’s tried to escape them,
But she can’t hide or run.

She’s been called insane,
But only as a joke,
She listens to the voices,
Trying to provoke,
She whispers back,
With a strange glint in her eyes,
This is when they joke she’s mad,
They do not see there is no lies.

The voices are real,
And they do tell the truth,
The truth as sharp as this knife,
The knife that she’s held all her youth,
They tell her that this,
This cutting and pain,
Will cure all her problems,
Stop the cold rain.

So she believes them,
Keeps cutting away,
But it’s become an addiction,
Which have turned them skies grey,
But this intense grey,
Is so close to black,
It casts a shadow over her world,
Lets her nightmares attack.

But the voices are there,
Shouting away,
Putting her down,
Day after day,
The only way to shut them up,
Is to do what they say
But that still won’t shut them up forever,
There is only one way,
It is to murder them,
And each of their lives slay.