Doa (Prose) Comments

When melancholy speaks, the whispering gets louder and louder, ignoring the sound will only make it more vigorous. That voice is the only voice that speaks to me now, the only voice I hear, the only voice I want to hear, and I find myself in it. The voices are mostly nothing but meaningless noise. The mask I hide behind keeps on slipping, keeps on slipping, it has been heavy, it keeps on slipping and the fight to keep it on all day is tough! But now the mask is finally off. A blanket of silence sinking its teeth into my throat. One cannot know what silence is if there was no noise!

The growing need is rising like a wave, teasing and prodding to be fed, and food doesn’t fill the emptiness inside me anymore. Nothing seems to satisfy my deepest desire.
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