Art of Silence

There is an art to s i l e n c e, a beauty in its presence, when a natural choice. From the fragility of b u t t e r f l i e s, to the majesty of sun kissed petals, an affinity with sparkling stars, a kinship with the mysterious moon. Sometimes solitude is a sanctuary of serenity, a delicacy of desires and dreams, elegantly expressed through words. Yet there is tragedy in it's creativity, when free will is s t i r r e d in a cauldron of hurt. In the manifestation of misery a mute tongue is a slave to s i l e n c e, coerced through a nightmare of NOISE In the crisis of sound, Satan serenades with your sanity in his playground of instability. Deafening s i l e n c e is an illness, a curse without a remedy in the stillness of suffering we can hear a heart breaking crackling, bleeding - s u f f o c a t i n g. In death's doorway of destinies, time is a speechless nemesis, a reminder that fate has no v o i c e but in a microcosm of metaphors there is a province of poetic perception - when we are s i l e n t we still have our words.