unreasonable silence

i’m scared of this life,

of what i’ve yet to face,

i cultivated strife,

my world’s a lonely place,

the silence is all consuming,

it defines who i am,

i can’t hear the flowers blooming,

i can’t hear myself become a man,

silence is heard,

silence is seen,

silence is felt,

it seems obscene,

silence is old

silence is young,

silence hurts,

Am I the only one?

silence is a lock,

silence is a key,

silence is my rock,

but it wont let me be me

how i decorate myself

rituals of unknowable entities,

running through my veins,

wounds healed are now scarred,

indestructible but not immune to pain,

infatuations of a beautiful existence,

postered over the fissures in my brain,

the pain is undisposed,

but made to look presentable,

chains of fate no longer exposed,

my impressionistic art designed to hide the infallible

window dressing suit of armor,

to disguise myself as capable

shadows always find a way,

to discard their light,

to infiltrate the day,

exaggerate their shapes,

oblique and complimentary,

profoundly altered states,

to envelop incessantly,

tortured and gratified,

to them, physics laws are not applied,

devoid of light and dancing,

shed of fear and no reason to hide

they needed a legend,

though i couldnt be he,

with pen to page,

i crafted what they need,

strength and resilience,

kindness and truth,

waves of transcendence,

clarifying the confused,

they needed a legend,

to make right, which once was wrong,

whose strength could be dependent,

a hero worthy of song,

a beacon of light,

when in shadows realm they they were consumed,

to stand up and fight,

when evil all around them loomed

we gathered at the end of time,

to discuss the meaning we did find,

lament the loves we had,

appreciate the profundity in the times we were sad,

one last walk to visit nature's creations,

in spite of the awe in its ideations,

we were sanctified by our lessons learned,

never despised the seasons turned,

there was wine and song for those we were leaving behind,

realized we never really lived,

until we gathered at the end of time

frantically aging, subtle and proud, antics, with age, no longer allowed, days of wanton disregard, so far away and so few, seeing the world with childs eyes, no longer a point of view, rolling down hills, with the sunshine on my face, the world has become a quiter place, the horizon used to seem endless and far away, we could never reach the end of our dreams, even if we ran for days~T.F. Burke