Voice, that important thing which is hide in your head. So many voices, sometimes they are the only one memory..
There’s a storm slowly and quietly comin‘
shy like a roses thorn
sounds like a bell in horn
like closed key in chain in deep side of body
makes me wonder how can shine the ruby,
when the shadow has been forget
for an age of miracle death,
mind won’t find the light what shows how It was, when it flew by the thread, it shouldn’t eat your last shiver feel,
but strong as a steel runnin’ thru the wall of endless, endless voices fall,
voices are like a ghost
what can become last,
like shadow under lamp
or ink on the stamp,
voice inside shell is that only thing what left you there like ring on the hand..