Whispers of the Soul

PTSD

The Sound of Silence

In the stillness, silence takes its throne,
A heavy crown of memories overgrown,
Where whispers of trauma, long tucked away,
Echo in chambers where shadows play.

The world outside pulses, a rhythm of life,
But here in this quiet, there's struggle and strife,
Each heartbeat a drum, each breath a refrain,
Yet the stillness surrounds me, a suffocating chain.

When night blankets softly, the darkness takes hold,
The silence erupts with stories untold,
Each tick of the clock is a reminder of time,
Of moments once lived, now echoing crime.

In the space between thoughts, where fears come to dwell,
A cacophony rises, too loud to quell,
Voices of doubt and memories past,
Haunting the quiet, an unending cast.

The silence becomes a mirror of pain,
Reflecting the moments, the loss, and the gain,
Each unspoken word clings like dust in the air,
Filling the void with the weight of despair.

I long for the laughter that once filled this place,
Now silence is heavy, it wears a dark face,
Every soft rustle, a trigger that stings,
The sound of my heartbeat, a song of broken strings.

In the quiet, I search for a flicker of light,
For hope in the darkness, a reason to fight,
Yet the echoes remind me of battles I've lost,
In the sound of silence, I measure the cost.

But in this stillness, a seed can be sown,
A flicker of strength in the depths I've outgrown,
For silence can cradle the truth I must face,
The journey to healing begins in this space.

So I breathe in the quiet, and with it, I vow,
To confront the shadows that linger, somehow,
For the sound of silence, though filled with despair,
Can also hold solace, a chance to repair.