Spirit Of Silence

Simmering ire perhaps it hides,

Behind the curtain of stillness.

Or dreaded anxious tremors,

Wrapped in a cloak of quietness.

Perchance the grey nimble sorrows,

It covers in a blanket of placidness.

Or the specks of volatile guilts,

Brushed under a carpet of peacefulness.

Close to its heart it holds many questions,

Answers of which lie in deep consciousness.

In its womb it holds a plethora of emotions,

Behold, the unwavering spirit of silence.