Oh how deepening are words
Unheard of
Unfolded
Untouched
Wrapped and secured
Tied with a loose ribbon
In hope
Someone will ask the Unheard
But who shall care?
To find this box there
Behind the thrashed corridor
Somewhere curdled under the bed
But who shall care?
To ask
Or reprimand
The hair tucked in the box
All with lockes
Of a fiery dare
But who shall care?
When the midnight preaches
When the stars dance and glow
Under the the hopeless doe
Oh but who sees the broken heart
Stripped and oozing blood
Oh but who sees the words under the shadows
Blanketed, roped in and pushed into the walls
All these yells, all these shouts
Pierce home after home
Can there be silence
For the Unheard
Can she find a place where there's no noise yet a voice
Of peace and love and life?
- e . a
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Written in Stone | ✔︎
PoetryWhen times come in the rough, the elders leave behind a carved manuscript, with words of wisdom, to help cope, with the darkness that curdles around the innocent souls When hope seems to be dying, the stone is found yet again With carved poetry...
