T hrough empty halls, he walks alone,
H earing only the quiet’s subtle tone.
E very echo fades, dissolving in the night.
S tillness surrounds him, sharp and bright,
O nce more, he feels the weight of time.
U nseen currents flow, almost sublime,
N othing stirs, yet something deeply moves.
D ark rivers course through veins, he proves.
O n the surface, calm — within, unrest,
F or silence hides the shadows unexpressed.
S lowly, he listens to the silence speak,
I t hums in hearts, both strong and weak.
L iquors black like night flow through each vein,
E ntering his thoughts, deep and arcane.
N ow, alone, he finds the quiet true,
C aught in the space where nothingness grew.
E very soul hears silence in its core.
I remembered a time when I created this poem with my man. I have just completed the last part of it. It was inspired by a song named The Sound Of Silence.
