I pray that voice to stop forever, The one which keeps haunting me since years, the one that bleats, yells, grunts at a high pitch mode, for its own comfort, for my discomfort. Sounds as if it brays, haven't heard it speaking. What could be the conception of its poor owner? Can't scare me for sure, can't make me follow its will. Maybe for its momentary peace, To find solace having thought of winning without knowing what winning actually is! I know it will cease soon, When it's made to sleep. The screeching voice would never shriek, Taking my ears to infinite tranquillity.