A Town With No Sound

Visions of strips of clouds in wornout towns People walking through them making rounds Sadness in their faces only frowns Silence on their voices not a sound Movements muffled growing softness not a vibration round From underground roots pull them down and down Within the air moods chill them without bounds Light glimmers barely flickers brightness drowning out Darkness showing over flowing flooding through the town Sight extinguished no overcoming its taken what its found Molding likeness forming lakes of wrong to righteous Reflecting from deep inside us blinding what we know of trust Devouring selfwill always following close behind us A shadow on our backs to constantly remind us A chill down our spine to regularly rewind us That beat in our heart that firmly defines us That rage in our eyes that seeks to defy us The race for the prize that overcomes choice Which results in the town of the people without voice