By Leyn “Nyle” Ferrer
Depths, as deep as the barely explored ocean floor, linger in the frequencies of my voice. With this song of mine, I wonder if one day, someone can bring harmony to my silent symphony.
I am not alone. As much as it is believed that I am, I am satisfied in my own little bubble. It just so happens that I sing a tone higher than my peers. Sometimes, I wonder if there is anyone that hears me. If there is anyone out there who understands.
Whatever. I will continue singing.
This solitary expedition, though… how long can I keep it up? How long can I go on with this before I start to crave the sound of another that isnt garbled noise to me?
Waves of 52 resound through the waters of varying currents. Some say its lonely to sing alone, even more so without the accompaniment of instruments harmonizing on their own. Some say its unique, one-of-a-kind, unusual, and that makes me fascinating to them.
Maybe both are right in some way. Perhaps I am distinct. Perhaps composing this lone operation is, indeed, lonely.
But such is life; circumstances change with every shift in the waves. When you were preoccupied with your ships equipped with explosives designed to overthrow one another, I was here, minding my own business. I would sing if I wanted to, and I know that I was heard by others. They didnt quite know what I sang about; it was rare to find another like me.
I didnt mind. I dont even know whats going on up there, in your atmosphere. Im perfectly happy swimming around down here.
I sure hope that the closer I get to the ocean floor, I would hear more of my own song rather than the discord that you call “progress.” The sound of gears grinding away is grating my ears.
You know of my existence. How? What kind of instruments have you cooked up there?
Can you hear me through the dissonance your machines have created? You assumed I have passed when you couldn’t t hear me no longer. Am I really, or did my voice just die because your ships carrying cargo pollute the surface at such an appalling, deafening volume?
Depths linger in the frequencies of my voice. Whether or not another hears it and sings in a tone similar to the one I do, I find myself screaming. Yelling. Frequently.
Just to be heard amongst the cacophony you have created.
I do not need to stand out. I can attest to this loneliness I have created for myself by singing my own songs, by lulling my own symphonies.
That day when you will hear why my calls fall on deaf ears is a discovery dipped in irony I would like for you to find. I digress; maybe the reason why harmony is nonexistent to escort my voice not because there is no one who shares my tone, but because you have disturbed the space of peace and quiet for your own gain.**
