Upon me is a silence pressed,
As countless thoughts go unexpressed,
Muted, not by nature meek,
Nor from lacking words to speak,
But from vast expanse of thought
Outside the bounds of words we’re taught.
By those who speak in silence
So I abide here in the quiet
While thoughts within would churn and riot,
Deaf to cries of lonely souls
Who also in the void repose.
Lacking sight and lacking sound,
While the sullenness surrounds
And penetrates them all.
But in this empty, noiseless place
Trapped by time and trapped by space,
There is within the quiet’s scope
The faint and fragile glimmered hope,
For a single voice to lift
And bestow to all the gift
Of sound within the silence.