Silence

The silence slithers, soft and thick,

It wraps your bones, it makes them stick.

It pulls you deep beneath your skin,

A trembling thought—a deathly grin.

—

It gnaws your thoughts, it gnashes dreams,

A whispered hiss that splits the seams.

The flesh it tears, it peels, it flays,

And still the silence stays, and stays.

—

The heart beats fast, but slows, it cracks,

Each pulse a throb, each thought attacks.

It digs beneath, it eats the mind,

A hollow scream you cannot find.

—

The eyes, they tear, they melt, they drip,

The mouth, it cracks, the teeth slip.

The blood runs thick, a poisoned flow,

A choking flood, but none will know.

—

It pulls the soul through gaping holes,

It writhes inside, it steals your roles.

The scream, it dies, the throat it snaps,

As silence swallows all that’s trapped.

—

The limbs grow stiff, the skin decays,

The body sinks in dreamless haze.

It pulls you in—no voice, no choice,

But hollow breath and broken voice.

—

And when the dawn begins to rise,

The silence grips with blinding eyes.

No sound to wake, no cry, no pain,

Just endless whisper—still—again.