The sounds of my thoughts transcend to a sword,

that flaps in my mouth, igniting a war.

It rings through your ears,

as my mind you hear,

while my sacred knowledge,

conquers your great fears.

The sounds of my thoughts are somewhat absurd,

they scream in my head, mute songs mouthed unheard.

Their lyrics are brave,

transmitting airwaves,

while swaying the doubts,

that kept them enslaved.

The sounds of my thoughts, I must now accept,

be true to myself, old memories swept.

Inhaling the fumes,

as my life resumes,

with no sense of doom,

new stories assumed.

By Grace Y. Estevez

From: United States

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