The Danger Of Silence

How could anyone face the silence alone?

The silence caressess my face

And in it’s native tongue it says “I’m here”

At times silence will become a poet

Never saying anything but leaves a suffocating feeling in it’s place

Crowding into my space

A small grin on It’s face,

wordlessly it tells me “It’s here to stay”

I’m scared to speak

As I write this story

Teardrops slip down my face

Before they can hit the page

The silence collects them in a jar, like rain

And then he would label them with the word “Pain”

Everyone thought that tongues were the sharpest of swords

But the Silence killed them without saying a word

The silence takes your fears and brings them here

We all have the same fear

Not of Death but of our names being plucked from the air

The fear of the Silence that surrounds things that are just no longer there

The silence knows we are afraid of him

But its only makes him smile a bloodthristy grin

This is why we write our names on everything we ever made

Because we are all prone to forget

And so we hope that someone will stumble upon our stories

The ones we have doctered and worn down with age

We hope that they’ll find what we have left

Our names upon the cover page

And just for that moment

It will be as though we’ve beaten silence and cheated death

That in the whisper of those words

We have taken one more breath.