The Stillness of the Heart
The stillness of the silent heart.
When it doesnt beat and it doesnt speak.
Oh the stillness of the heart when its quiet.
When it doesnt move, its still.
When its grown contempt with its surroundings or come to terms with its turmoil.
The heart, when its lost its heat and its fire.
Oh the stillness of the heart when its silent.
When it doesnt make a sound.
When its grown too weak to weep.
When its grown tired of trying.
When there is nothing left to hear.
Oh the stillness of the heart when it doesnt speak.
When there is no words to form a rhythm or a beat.
When it doesnt move or quiver.
When it doesnt lash out or scream.
When it doesnt click of clammer.
Oh the stillness of the heart when its quiet.
When it doesnt mumble or moan.
When it doesnt wince or whisper.
when it doesnt murmur or mutter.
When it doenst have tenants or tones.
Oh the stillness of the heart when its still.
When its calm as night.
When its knots are un-tied.
When its movemnet has died.
When its lids are dark.
Oh the stillness of the heart when its grown contempt and come to terms.
When it doesnt complain or compare.
When it doesnt fume or fight.
When it doesnt stretch or strive.
When it doesnt define or despair.
Oh the stillness of the heart when its lost its flame and its fire.
When its grown cold.
When its hard as rock.
When its ache and hurt is gone.
When it doesnt hurt or long.
Oh its still.
Copyright © Warren Arends | Year Posted 2015
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