In thus profound world
There is so much noise
We as a species revel in it
The ear deafening silence
Makes us uncomfortable
In the silence our ears ring with truth
It is the crux of statis
The originality of our existence
We were born of nothingness
And we shall return to the silence
Once a spec floating through the cosmos
On an endless trip to places we have
Visited once before
RB2.4