The wild, impatient, bored
is desperate;
his bursting feelings stored
can't tolerate;
the freezing binder cord
that captivates;
his pity-feeding soul,
can't medicate;
this suffered most by all;
of any age,
they're no afraid to fall;
into their rage,
of thirsting for some trolls,
they'll never cage
for caged they firstly are;
of needing stage
but always ask me why;
my silent state
did never end my life;
or even fate;
I wondered, I could lie;
but it's too late;
my dear silence and I
are loving mates;
wished I could help survive;
them on their hate,
of wordless, soundless highs,
but 'tis a bait,
by daylight or tonight,
we'll isolate;
I'll never leave my light;
my heaven's saint.
