Silence—so embraceable are you!
It can neither sting nor soothe
It can neither be a poison or balm
It cannot be a curse or psalm
Cannot harm nor heal
Cannot numb or feel
It be only what our minds make of it
It be only what your imagination sculpts
Only what we assume
Only what we accept as true
All that have breath may utter lies
But silence rings no truth or false
No peace, no war
No clean, no gore. . .
The purpose of silence, and other things too,
Is only what are minds make of it
What we believe of it
This be the purpose of Silence—it’s true
So what is the purpose
Of me, of he—of you?