A voice that spoke loudly, into the night
They knew, at once, from where it came
Down the dark hallway, shined a dim light
Every evening, she was always the same

Scratching, inside the walls, could be heard
Grating, like fingernails, on the blackboard
A sound so hideously insane, and absurd
Much like the bellows, of a feudal warlord

Refusing to believe she wasn’t normal
Taunting, and teasing the hired staff
Until, eventually, the matter, now formal
Did leave her, exhausted, in the aftermath

When, at last, she had been taken away
They had a chance to find out the cause
That made that horrible sound, most days
One that had given them reason to pause

There, on the desk, piled high, one on one
Silvery discs, and a dried up fountain pen
Scratched and grooved, and quite overrun
Her insanity recorded, but, never heard again

January Writing Prompt – The recording was all the proof they needed – Day 25/31

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