The Whispers of my Soul

Whispers- the soft form of sound,
The hushed tones of the voices in my head.
Or may be in my soul.
Who knows if the head can make a whisper?
I bet it can make thoughts though.
Thoughts- exhausting versions of life.
But, whispers are marvelous-
They are in form of tones- with rhythms perhaps,
Like a composure of a string-
Absorb you into them,
Makes you forget the world,
The world of chaos and disorder.
And remind you the beauty of the world-
The world that you’ve forgotten,
The stillness of the morning,
The quietness of the dark night,
The soothing power of the rain,
The brightness of the rainbow,
The blueness of the ocean,
The sweet color of the flowers,
What can we say- the original world,
The way earth was supposed to be.
The whispers of my soul-
Depicts the beautiful painting,
In the canvas of my eyes,
Sings the verity of my world,
Into the inner part of my ears.
So, I hear the whispers of my soul-
And pause for a moment,
In this terrible, chaotic world of ours,
And then- only then,
I would choose to stay,
A little while, may be;
Just may be- a little longer!