Silence is the night's choir, singing in wind and rain.
I hear its hum underneath the whistle of the train.
It is beauty, it is pain. Because silence is where noise is made.
The echo of a breaking heart, the swelling of a beating one.
Silence is the master of every morning sun.
Silence is the ocean and the sky, where noise is undone.
Love is buried, life is born, because the noise created in silence echoes far beyond where it's sung.
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Author:
StrangeNoise (
Offline) - Published: November 24th, 2022 01:05
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 17
- User favorite of this poem: katerenazoe.
Offline)
Comments1
Good write.
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