It is silence that troubles me most.
Discord second, silence first.
For in silence, I sense but a ghost
Of impressions from my host.

I'm a nightmare, haunting dreams
Though for those that look through seams,
They who play their mind's best strings,
I am sweet and quite revealing - so it seems.

And as discord, as a non-melodic chime
I commit the only timeless crime
I confuse the heart in ways sublime
And through chaos do I claim it mine.

Thus they rightly think - so I suppose
T'would be folly to otherwise propose.
But as one who writes in verse and prose
I'll accept neither of those.

So am I troubled when my greatest machinations
Cause at most just senseless trepidations
When I fail to stir the minds of nations
Do I fail through my creations?

From such things come silence and discord,
Two most ugly beasts who act only of their own accord.
Though heart-heavy, I afford:
They are beautiful text-poured.