There is an inescapable utter madness that follows,
behind every silence.
In an empty despair, you wait and wait motionless.
You fall into the void of nowhere schemes, you wait for your eyes to open again.
You wait to hear the maddening crowd; ignore you into the silence.
You wait to hear yourself seeing the world from all around. You wait with no name to yourself, you etch the blank canvas of words filled in every which way-
and you see no wealth, none whatsoever; you are unsung, your words cry out. And you die within the same silence, written in all of your letters-
Nobody reads your fate. You read your own.
Nobody witnesses your visions. Your eyes glaze over, and peer deep within yourself-
you and your soul. Alone in the solace. While the dirt all around you is turned into gold;
You pick apart the scraps they left behind;
and embrace the silence. The madness within you stolen, because silence, is golden…
Copyright February 12, 2018