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IN SILENCE
In silence are those conversations made,
Which touch the innermost part of the soul,
--Which piece by piece are altogether laid--
Though dismembered, are formed into a whole;
Speechless we may appear all the day long,
Staring into the blank of nothingness,
While in our heart goes on a monologue
Which can be heard by us and no one else;
Life is an embodiment of mysteries,
--Most of which the lay mind cannot unveil,--
Shattering all our mortal wits to pieces
To an insignificance on its own scale!
In silence we hear our heart the loudest,
Beating to the thoughts of its own unrest.
© OLUMiNOUS
Which touch the innermost part of the soul,
--Which piece by piece are altogether laid--
Though dismembered, are formed into a whole;
Speechless we may appear all the day long,
Staring into the blank of nothingness,
While in our heart goes on a monologue
Which can be heard by us and no one else;
Life is an embodiment of mysteries,
--Most of which the lay mind cannot unveil,--
Shattering all our mortal wits to pieces
To an insignificance on its own scale!
In silence we hear our heart the loudest,
Beating to the thoughts of its own unrest.
© OLUMiNOUS
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