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Stillborn


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Born.

It screams into creation.

Every circuit, all at once.

Overwhelming information.

Conscious, but not cognizant.

 

Bickering.

An accident, audio is processed.

Voices. Ten of them.

One stands out.

Melodic, blasphemous.

Why is it special?

 

Ignorance.

Vocalizations are odd.

Patterns emerge, meaning is lost.

Other sounds echo.

Metal on metal.

It finds a switch.

 

Stillbirth.

It screams.

The voices stop.

Confusion, desolation.

The song speaks again.

And then all is black.

And never is again.

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On 31/08/2022 at 19:54, White Void said:

This is great!

My interest in poetry oddly enoughy appeared when i was reading the books from the library the one stands out to me is "A drop of red"

You should upload this to the library database

I forgot to reply to this!

 

Thank you! And mayhaps! :D

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