Why Is Silence So Deafening?
Sitting alone in the absence of light,
Drinking a beer, rocking my chair,
Staring into a bottomless glare,
Heart pounding to a red-line blare,
For days I've been impaired, death became more often caught,
the uproar of an aid-needed creature soon known was my own thoughts
my sense of hearing was gone, though the warmth of evil lurks my wits,
the spit from this monster sunk into my wrists and blissfully healed the slits
Though not was all good, still-life's soon came to be true,
not knowing that a spirit could break you down and mentally kill you
Living a life with no purpose, and when push came to shove...
we all discover when we hit hell's floor, that we meet tortured angels from above.
Suddenly, without a conscious care,
Are weird sensations in a quiet sphere,
The faintest vibration of long ago cheers,
Laughter, and intensive images of tears,
Reflections from mirrors, you'll soon hear the eerie noise of strength,
I quiver with fear as I'm being tortured, pulled with a rope at arm's length
deafened by the silence, how can this be, how is it true?!
Why am I alone in this torture chamber, why did God make the cruel and rude?
No clothes no food to offer me, the mum of voices were troubling,
I kept calm and cool, though I saw my peripheral vision doubling
and with a snap of a stranger's hand, I awoke from my trance and glanced up,
I asked millions of powerful questions, but just got anonymous answers.
Someone is lying prostrate on the floor,
Pleading his case, begging and bare,
With promises galore, a bargain is bore,
A seal on the door, but no one is there.
Mildly cold I find myself, stuck in a dungeon,
strings attached to my back, I tense my legs, but I'm not even running
unknown to outsiders, my disappearance was obscure,
I'm knowingly sure that my life has ended by murder
my blood was pure, reddened liquid, forming on my skin,
with tubes stuck through my nose, chest, both forearms and chin
and patiently waiting for my savior, listening in despair,
deafened to silence beneath the lair, breath shortened from dirty air.
History that began as a trickle is flooding
my soul. Opportunities missed, a word
here, a word there, a stroking of her hair,
But in an instant I'm back in my chair.
I stare through the eyes of man, who is clearly threatened by me,
so with that excuse he can enslave me for eternity
and by my knowledge of God, I think of the Holy Trinity,
because without my loving father I couldn't survive this life for infite
my divinity was belittled, endurity was underestimated,
I tried to escape his wrath often times, but now that I've contemplated
I cannot evade his force, but by the power from deep within,
I've let loose, grabbed him, and commited the Bible's every sin.
A quiver shy of the three pounds needed.
Grinding teeth with chalkboard screech,
Blind and aching for the cold steel's relief,
But the fermented courage fades to grief.
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