Rage in your bones
Silence in every breath
Staring at the mirror
But your eyes do not meet
Keep you up at night
Long forgotten screams
Past ghosts hunting you
So damn hard to please
Looking for missed pieces
Don't let your hopes down
Crowded bloody pages
Are all that you own
For a soul to see
How the heart is bleeding
Is not to witness auroras
Just the marks you're leaving
But when the blind leads
Mute's talking of creeds
The glass of patience breaks
And rage perfectly fits
YOU ARE READING
Between Notes and Tacenda: The Prose of Life
PoetryIn the spaces between our spoken words and the silence that follows, life unfolds a tapestry woven from the notes we play and the tacenda we carry. For Tina, my anchor in this sea of words.
