I have been on a journey. I took a break to find out truth. And these are some thoughts that made me set aside my pen and stylus and think deeper on what it means to speak my mind. I do not know how much longer I will go without writing, but I feel I must take the time it takes to learn the lessons I must learn so that I can speak the words most needed and not simple ramblings without meaning. These are my words unexpressed:
The words won’t come to me.
The blank page stares back defiantly.
What do I seek here?
What is my purpose?
It is nothing but blubber.
I am desperate for a change
But can words speak to a cold, hardened heart?
I am speaking to plastic people,
Puppets in the most bizarre of plays.
Different faces, different fears,
All covered up neatly in our death masks.
And this is how we want to die?
But what is my purpose in speaking?
To condemn? To heal?
To redeem? To kill?
Am I speaking for the pride of it?
Am I speaking just to be heard?
If my purpose is so arrogantly simple,
So will be the fruit it reaps.
If my words are no more than vain babblings
Then I should never write again….
“The Sound of Silence”
They say that silence is cowardess,
A weakness in disguise,
A problem to overcome,
A deadly compromise.
But what if silence is the height of honor
And foolish babblings the cross of shame?
What if silence is discretion, wisdom,
And utterance merely want of fame?
‘Love and be silent.’
‘Tis the noblest you can do.
Move on and not be violent,
Let be what can be let.
The sound of silence
Is the loudest
In the place where chatter
Is the norm.