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?)

would be the greatest gift –

more precious than gold –

to be held –

not just the one who holds!