No Healing Touch

How can you tell without even a word Not a single thought, even absurd Can make a difference, or ever be heard In the quiet not real, but maybe preferred The kindest gift, no gift at all but treason To lay before me all that is ugly with reason And turn slowly my thoughts, in ragged cohesion No healing touch has warmed this cold season The world turns on rules that are broken Yet, I sink to the bottom, my words unspoken To think that once my voice was more than a token Even when my pain cried out, not a soul was awoken Do not follow my path as I have walked into hell Though I am new to its shores I remember it well Even my burning flesh cannot break the ungodly spell I am left alone without words and no story to tell