Inner Voice

 

when her inner voice was muted

it was no suprise

that she gets sound sleep after robbing his:

it yelled through the patterns,

the snubs, the disdain and the hugs - as it suited

while the inner voice didn't hold her back,

and maybe, just maybe, it gave up;

it was a little wonder

that her rock, the one she once called god

was silenced, snapped, and the pattern haunted 

when the inner voice was gagged,

or, drowned in the noise of shallow pleasures,

it wasn't shocking, though the cycle repeating did surprise,

when the unselfish, unexpecting, unrelenting, 

the giving and forgiving

was repaid, again, with silencing and damning 

if his staying up despite the pains - and all else, 

so that she could sleep,

couldn't wake her up from the pretence of sleep,

what else could ever make the inner voice heard?

wake up - the ever trusted one,

the one for whom my heart skipped a beat,

sit by me, let my nerves feel you, and hear your inner voice speak,

help my eyes find sleep, an unending sleep!

© sashikant mohanty