Can you hear my voice?
It's calling out for a golden heart to spare it's time for a voice needing to tell a story.
My eyes grow dull of the same scenario that brings nothing anew.
My voice crumbles to a minimum with one button made of what is ahead of me.
I leek out bits and bits of my voice,
yet everything I say is incomprehensible.
My hand presses the mute button as the eyes of the sun burned out.
The voice of which I use to know is no longer near the melody of the songs I listened to.
My voice is quieter than the sounds of a snake hissing it's warnings.
My voice died out gradually to only speak of what I cannot determine.
My voice seems to see that there is no need to say words to respond to needless thing.
However, my voice is just something that even I cannot command.
My voice just comes and goes along the wind that hides my words past what people can hear.