The Song Of Silence

So much noise outside,

yet my inner voice calls out,

its whispers louder than the chaos,

a melody within, no doubt.

I’ve learned not to lose myself,

in a world that can’t comprehend,

I hold the silence close to me,

like a letter with no end.

Loneliness, once my enemy,

now cradled like a child,

soothing every ache within,

where peace is calm, yet wild.

I fear no longer what’s ahead,

for I’ve walked through fire’s breath,

without a scar, without a mark,

I conquered shadows, faced the depth.

But my heart—

my quiet, tender heart—

is the one thing I must keep,

it’s the light that led me through the dark,

the love that’s buried deep.

I am not what surrounds me,

I am the song they cannot sing,

the warmth that they don’t see,

I am the silence, born to spring.

My peace was not a simple gift,

it came after storms that roared,

I found balance, not indifference,

it’s the calm that my soul has stored.

I may seem cold, a distant breeze,

but within me burns a fire,

not for me, but for the lost,

to warm their hearts, their tired desire.

My wounds?

I wear them like a song,

etched in ink that never fades,

they are my verses, they are long,

written in the quiet shades.

Each scar a note, each tear a rhyme,

a rhythm that’s never wrong,

for I’ve learned the sweetest melody,

is the one that’s soft and strong.