-Silence is Only Golden, To
Those of Us Who Can Hear it -
Even in The Pitch, The Rumbling of Nothing
Stirs Up The Voices Behind My Eyes.
The Virtuousness Withers as My Patience
Rots Like Wilting, Weather Beaten Wood.
- I Love How The Creative Brain Studies
Academic Precision as if it Were The Enemy -
And There it is Again My Friend, That Voice
Which Whispers So Lucidly, " You're Alone"
It Strips The Oils From Your Skin and Turns
The Eyes into Harnesses of The Dark.
- The Strain of the Dilation Dries The Liquid,
And The Hollowness Overtakes The Mindset -
Trapped inside a Head That Doesn't Want You
There. Sharing A Skull With The Devil.
The Searing Heat Creates a Deep Scar, A
Comforting Recognition of Overcoming Pain.
- We Tend To Fear What We Can't See, But
I'm More Afraid of What's Staring Me in The Face -