The Voice is LoudMature

The voice is loud
And varied in it's might,
The low we take
Less presence over height
Why does the voice
Lead me to my home?
Yet take what I had
And take my own.

The day is long
And strong as any night,
The air itself
It fills my heart with fright,
I felt the sun
Was taken by the rain
And chill the warmth I wish
Would come again.

The smile is wide,
So rarely given free,
With good intent
But breeding jealousy,
I know not how,
The air is sharper still,
I'm only here
By my force of will.

The voice is loud,
Much louder than my own,
I gaze around
And wonder how I'd grown,
When all this time,
Surrounded by the voice,
All I know is that
This was my choice.

The End

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