The voices in my head

Poetry    is it important?
Can it change the world and the people in it?
I feel the voices inside me fragile and dormant
And if spoken your and my soul's fire will be lit

Nothing  Nothing  Nothing is everything

A perfect dystopia of noise

Where birds and flowers through the air ring

And every one and every thing cool and poise

I want it   to experience it

But my mind tells me otherwise

The logic inside me is throwing a fit

And this is what it had summarized:

It couldn't exist  there is no way

You might as well say that there is a god

Will you really give up everything you've worked for since that day?

When you realized  the  mind  will  rot

You know there could be no way that nirvana could exist

or have you gone agnostic?

How can you respect yourself if you don't persist?

You know it'll only end in something chaotic