Oh Balm of Gilead
Where are you?
My tongue is swollen
from misuse
If it bled or decreased
every time it betrayed me
I would no longer possess one
Vows of silence
broken so suddenly
me thinks it has a mind
of it's own
To break promises
carved in stone
and stained with blood
from the sacred living heart
Why can you not hush?
Must you waggle so?
Have you not learned
that you are the cause of so much
pain and misery?
Obviously not
and the lips, the lungs
they are your cohorts
Relishing in the the noise they help
you make
Rejoicing in it, whatever the
consequence of such
idiocy proclaimed
as if the whole universe was
created
to hear your donkey braying
Silence is more valuable,
more poignant
than all the treasures of heaven
If only the Balm would stick.