The Voice
The Voice
By: Adam M. Snow
Ever heard of the things that go bump in the night?
When you are alone how it stirs up a fright,
The night's all calm in vespertine stillness,
But that's just the start of a long night of cruelness.
The story starts out with a girl so young,
With boys on her mind as words flow from her tongue.
Her name is Ember, not an age past sixteen,
Alone in a house with something unseen.
Her parent's are gone on a weekend long trip,
Cruising the Bahamas on a romantic cruise ship.
As the story starts she's alone in her room,
On the phone with her best friend Emily Bloom.
'It is true, my parents are gone,
They won't be back till Monday's dawn'
Said Ember to her friend over the phone.
'What are you going to do until then? '
Asked Emily.
'Surely you can't watch movies again and again? '
'I-I'll think of something I guess,
Perhaps I'll read or go out none-the-less.'
'O.k. Ember, I'll let you go for now.'
Said Emily as she hung up the phone and let Ember be.
The clock strikes midnight with her house now eerie,
She remains in her room, alone and dreary.
She lies down onto her bed with an erotic book in her hand,
Getting ready to read, she lies there peacefully and grand.
Thinking of nothing but the book she's about to read,
She hears a loud screech as of a woman screaming with plead.
'It sounds like it came from the room next to mine' she said.
'Must it be my parent's home early from a trip cut short? '
Getting up off her bed, she continues to see what that noise may be.
Walking now down a darkened hallway to the room next to hers,
'Whose there! ? ' She cries out, but not a voice in return.
She turns the light on to find, twas no one there.
'How could this be, am I not the only one here? '
She continued to search all throughout the house,
Only to find no one, not ever her brother's spouse.
'Perhaps was nothing, but my imagination going wild.'
She thought to herself out loud.
Back to her room to where the story first start,
With the night still young and also mild.
She picked up her book and started to read.
Again, she hears the loud screech as of a woman screaming with plead.
'Truly this cannot be my mind playing tricks on me.'
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poem by Adam M. Snow
Added by Poetry Lover
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