Untitled VI

Who hides there in my silence,

and crawls through each misplaced thought?

To haunt the waking consciousness,

frightened as it sought – some truth.

Which I will never find,

the cure, the truth which is myself.

Tucked beneath the lie.

Every uttered sound a noise,

to block away the scar –

laid with ease inside a dream,

passed off as nothing more – and yet

there is sets and begs me on.

Explain me please it dares,

and I must fight it hand to fist.

The battle that is not there,

arguing on and on until

the voice, so gently fades.

As the body drifts to sleep,

and I begin the day -afraid

Longing – and each minute more,

the silent twilight near

the dawning of the match.

Where pleading words of clarity,

shadow my every thought –

Yet, in constant grief – in stillness

Raging – as if to burst

into – a million jagged fragments lost within a single word.

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