Voices are underrated, right?
They transcend thoughts in to reality, emulating even the emotions that cannot be demonstrated any other way. Voices spark interest, grasp souls, scar even the limitless power of the mind. Voices cannot be mimicked, it is what it is, and cannot be changed. Voices are our creativity, our expression of our souls and the most severe thoughts that we ever entertain. Voices are what we have, when we have nothing, as they are our own, nobody else's. Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Nelson Mandela, struck African Americans with words harder than Babe Ruth's swing which struck the world of sports harder than Hitler's voice that is now imprinted in the minds of entire religions. Tupacs voice lit the West Coast and the hood on fire, while Biggie gave a voice to the East, with as much horrific passion as my friend's moms scream when she was shot, by his own father. Without voices, there is no impact, no change. And your voice, I feel a symbiotic relationship enhance and with every word you speak, with every noise you make, another dynamic of the wild lion of my passion, another complexity of the everlasting equation of my mind, is consumed. My heart is covered by the memory of your voice, as my brain looks forward to the next one. Your voice, you do not need to sing to make music. Your tone screams to my morals, soothes the war of chaos that ceases to rest in my mind, massaging my emotions, doing the impossible; harnessing my thoughts Your voice, enrages my temptations on fire as if you are a pyromaniac, but I cannot give in. If I were to kiss you, I would not be able to hear it for that moment. Your voice, it is the epitome of my favorite song, it is the symbol of peace I strive so hard for, The God of my religion, Your voice, God I fucking love it Please, do not stop speaking to me.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorDaniel Buccafusca Archives
May 2021
|