The Sound of Silence

I step into the quiet hall,

Where silence hangs, a heavy shawl.

They say it heals, it clears the air,

But all I find is weight to bear.

They sit in peace, their minds at rest,

While chaos rages in my chest.

They say, “Be still, let calm begin,”

But I hear storms beneath my skin.

The silence echoes, sharp and wide,

It finds the fears I try to hide.

How can this hush bring me release,

When all I feel is far from peace?

I wonder if the quiet sees

My restless hands, my shaky knees.

Does it wish I’d pause and stay,

Instead of running thoughts away?

Yet sometimes, in the stillness deep,

I find a calm that starts to seep.

It’s not a voice, it’s not a sound,

But something vast, a force profound.

They say the silence softly heals,

And in its folds, the truth reveals.

Not with answers, loud and clear,

But space to hold what I most fear.

The sound of silence hums and sings,

A hidden tune on fragile wings.

It’s not the absence, cold and stark,

But gentle light within the dark.

And as I sit, I start to see

The quiet has its own decree:

It waits for those who dare to stay,

To hear its song and not turn away.

In silence, storms will fade from sight,

And shadows yield to growing light.

For all its weight, the hush bestows

A place to rest, where healing flows.