Silence plays a melody
of toils and years of doom
listening, and beckoning
filling an empty room
A weather new to any age,
an abundance of empty thought
The Woulds and Shoulds are raining
from clouds of memories sought
Plaguing some of purpose
and filling some with fear
making sudden noises
for the loudest minds to hear
Parading round in fervor
and examining the lost
too loud to even recognize
but colder than eyes of frost
He is the oldest raconteur
but somehow a cowardice
of showing no reaction
to the world aflame in bliss
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Silence plays a melody
of toils and years of doom
listening, and beckoning
filling an empty room
A weather new to any age,
an abundance of empty thought
The Woulds and Shoulds are raining
from clouds of memories sought
Plaguing some of purpose
and filling some with fear
making sudden noises
for the loudest minds to hear
Parading round in fervor
and examining the lost
too loud to even recognize
but colder than eyes of frost
He is the oldest raconteur
but somehow a cowardice
of showing no reaction
to the world aflame in bliss
