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Monday, 18 July 2016

Silence

Unspoken Words, a symphony of phantom sighs, 

A palimpsest of absence, where meaning softly dies. 

A current unseen, yet profoundly it flows, 

The unwhispered echoes, a language no one truly knows. 

What I breathe in whispers, how you interpret the air, 

A fragile dance of meaning, suspended in thin despair. 

Just linger a moment, in the hush of what's not said, 

And perhaps you'll hear the ghosts of words long dead.

 

Unspoken Words, a guitar weeping in the night, 

Each fret a memory, bathed in pale moonlight. 

You bring a melody, a fragile, haunting strain, 

And I, with trembling fingers, weave lyrics born of pain. 

Come, let us hum together, a dirge of what might have been, 

Let the strings vibrate with the sorrow held within. 

Let them speak of fractured dreams and love's lost refrain, 

In the quiet spaces where only shadows remain.

 

Unspoken Words, labyrinthine alleyways of the soul, 

Where shadows stretch and memories take their toll. 

I wander these desolate paths, lost in the fading light, 

A prisoner of moments, trapped in the endless night. 

I wish you could traverse them, these corridors of my past,

Feel the weight of ages, the time that slips too fast. 

My sense of time unravels, lost in this desolate maze, 

Where echoes of laughter mingle with the fog of bygone days

 

Unspoken Words, a vast expanse of cerulean blue, 

A canvas painted with hues of melancholy and rue. 

It holds the answers to every grief, delusion, and delight, 

Reflected in the stars that pierce the velvet night. 

In the tranquil hours, when the world is hushed and still, 

I gaze into the abyss, seeking solace on the lonely hill. 

Searching for the answers to the "whys" that haunt my core, 

Lost in the immensity, forevermore

 

Unspoken Words…yours and mine, a chasm deep and wide, 

A story left unfinished, where destinies collide. 

Neither you nor I can fathom the cruel hand of fate, 

That wove these unspoken words into a desolate state. 

When and how did language fade into this silent tomb? 

When did our shared narrative succumb to the gathering gloom? 

Unspoken Words, a shroud that wraps us in its cold embrace, 

Unspoken Words…a haunting echo in this desolate space. 

A haunting echo of what could have been, 

Lost in the absence, forever unseen