Conch

The conch,
on thin strings,
in front of the face,
no voice, true sound,
let the melody scream.

Voice rings out,
across the surface,
weighing more heavily
on the shell.

Spiral jagged shape,
A coat of armor,
Shielding away,
Masking the voice.

Behind it,
Cold Jelly,
Just Quivering
under smooth pebbles
Deep under the sea.