When the hidden crying stops
And the tears are gone, your pillow now soaked
All that remains is the cold silence
You sit in the dark, rubbing your saddened eyes
And you realise, when all things eventually die
That silence is the only constant in life
When you die, you are silent
But you are never truly alone because the silence is always there
Like a mystical force within the air
A force stronger than no other
A force that can tear the soul out your body
When you sit and cry in the late hours of the night
All you wish is to her hear voice
A soft voice, filled with worry and passion
A voice that could reinvigorate you, a voice to end the tears
But no, you will sit there
No voice will protrude and present itself from the darkness
You will have only the darkness
And the cold, empty silence.
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