lips pursed tightly –
scream suppressed –
eyes masking the terror that hides within…
in this sad world –
silence becomes a much wanted,
much needed place –
(the voices never quiet)
but elusive;
the dissipating wisp of smothered flame,
phrases barely visible on foggy mirrored panes…
to find that place –
where dreams reside –
that Xanadu of peace –
to float like clouds upon a tranquil sky –
oh what release…
to find recompense –
from the madness –
(oh Father, where art thou?)
that would be the greatest gift –

more pure than gold –
to be held –
not just the one who holds!