substantial breakable quiet, the moon shimmers above, a great beacon of tranquility the night whispers a hidden new tune and hides its face in an attempt at humility quickly the sound is gone too soon a misty white evening with boats on the bay the water churning, until it is gray an empty stillness weaving the tapestry of the night a multitude of dreams, and quiet hearts the living hold breath, at the magnificent sight because of the silence, the mind can't help but spark we are a simple people, it is with the absence of sound Our scholars and our work, have become renowned in the beginning, there was silence and today there still is, we cannot live without the quiet, unbearable though it is.
As I walk an all too quiet house glass under my feet, I look for the whereabouts, the place my sanity retreats. A temple modeled after the greatest intentions and point of my attention. I hear the clocks ticking a warning, looking, a response, reminding my woes of the sky I'll never know. This home is built of memories not concrete or tile or trees. Built off of everything I want to be, how I devote my character to thee. Silence, my only tyrant. My pain and misery, deliver me from this toxicity. Come back, knock, the door anything to make it louder once more.