The Silent One

And I am the silent one

Sitting in a cage;

I only have three lives left

And tomorrow is the sorrow of all sorrows

Disturbingly I am inept--

Unkept and upset, I marvel at my majesties

The talent of words are suspect

And romantic hearts die in rage

My deadness is of my emptiness...

Oh the dying breed of willingness

Let my happiness oblige

Thank you for your distant treason

Smooth pens do not fill the soul--

And I am the silent one

Sitting in rage;

Flowers keep their hands off me

As the garden grows euphorically

The sirens press against my skin

And all the rage comes afoot,

Oh my silent treason has no lures

I ache to one's society

What heart breathes of distant air? I

don't know

For the reason for treason is love

A thousand hearts break in one

night...for I live inside my head

So what is the answer to this question

I'm trying to convey?

For this crying riddle redeems

itself for whatever reason

I really don't know the answer to

this question...except life;

Can you ever resist the ball and chain

Reckoning the silence throughout this?

The red light flickers at one's conversation...

How deep is your love when it is led?

For every rose has a crush,

But no one knows it until it blooms...

My body is bound to many mysteries

No need in being spiteful, for I am not

perfect

For humans are like seeds

We are deeply planted

And rooted down to the seams--

And behold, the passion is nice and flaired

What poetry can spare the taking?

For these are my words in reason

Swinging from chandelier to chandelier,

And all that you are worth is a part of me;

What dire suspense do you breathe?

For I breathe wonder through my loins

What desperate plea leads to a bargain?

For I am the silent one.