Doubt

After 20 years of silence, can I reawaken the writer in my soul or did I just imagine her?

DOUBT

My world is ever shrinking
As the pages slowly turn
And every day I’m sinking
To the point of no return.

I’m starting to forget now
Who I was ever meant to be
And stare now at the living
My choices handed me

My writer’s voice is silent
Lulled to sleep long years ago
By the tones of home and family
And not allowed to grow.

My soul is in there somewhere
Longing to be set free
But my demons keep her hidden
Lost to reality.

I feel her slowly sliding
And reaching in the air
But no one knows she’s falling
Too busy now to care

Once again, I mute her pleading
And retreat into the past
I forget her phantom  echoes
And I let her go at last

Should I fight to set her free again
Bring her back and hear her song
Give her wings and sing her melody
Which I’ve hidden for so long

Or should I let her fade away
Perhaps she was never there
Too loud to hear her whispers
And too busy now to care.