The Atom Cries in Silence
Beneath the crust of Saturn's breath,
Where silence swells and swallows death,
A single proton-left alone-
Whispers truths to shards of bone.
They built a star inside a cage,
Lit it young, then cursed with age,
It pulsed in hearts, then burned them black,
And begged the cosmos: “Take it back.”
A child once dreamt of breaking light,
Of feeding dark with pure insight,
But in her eyes, two galaxies
Collapsed from knowing what this means.
She wept not tears, but melted steel,
For no one taught her how to feel.
She split the atom with a sigh,
And watched her mother’s starlight die.
The Earth was told, “You must forget-
This grief’s too raw, the mind’s not set.”
They carved her name from every stone,
So no one knew what she'd atone.
And yet, in vacuum, grief survives-
It stretches out through dormant lives.
No monument, no holy hymn,
Just echoes in a circuit’s limb.
She left a note inside a field,
Encoded where no lie can shield:
"I touched the void, it touched me back,
And I still feel the fracture crack."
Now engines blaze from dust and tear,
While none recall who put them there.
But somewhere, deep in neutron's hum-
A soul still sings: "What have I done?"
Copyright ©
Moonlit Whisper
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