It is not so much as I feel it completely
All consumingly, madly, inexorably,
Yet it comes in like the tide
It caresses me until those moments where it dashes my body against the razored cliffs.
It is like a radio that never turns off to give me a semblance of wistfulness rather it gives voice to my demons until all I can do is cover my ears to the technicolor sound.

Is the silence I relentlessly pursue? or is to be finally engulfed by the mercurial sea? I had a dream, where I sank slowly into the depths and it was the most wonderful sleep. Even now sometimes in the witching hour, where silence and shadows is permeated only by my thoughts I think how nice it would be to slowly sink into the unconscious - as the breath is pulled from my lungs and my mind finally gives into the silence I crave. Where my unrest from the grave rises and pulls me in for the last embrace