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O’, Wretched Silence

29 Oct

Erase this most wretched silence,
cut from my breast its vain heart,
’til wound shall but ghastly bleed,
and leave stain upon tender flesh.

Make then a wretched stall of me,
that my breath shall but bleed of it,
and turn my voice not to silent stain,
‘ere shall I word myself to its decay.

Lessen words, as they are too brazen,
lessen breath, as ’tis too heavy within,
make more a rampant stillness attend,
and leave me not aside from its reach.

Let this silence now be its own remorse,
as I have held it for too long sustained,
tear from my breast its burdened weight,
that my voice be more than mere words.

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Posted by on October 29, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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