Halcyon

At the Brink

Bright rooms, bright flashes.
Clandestine contemplations, echoed deliberations.
Veneer smiles. Camouflaged thoughts.
Clinked glasses. Captured photographs.

At the brink of brined ruminations,
 silence grows,
                  glows,
                      greets.

In chambers caged with laughter,
    quietness tightens,
                            tenses,
                                 tautens.

Even a single moth will fall,
when propelled to encircle a single flame.
Even a single candle relinquishes faith,
when ridiculed to remain aflame.

I built a home from unanswered prayers,
beneath a blistered sky of dark blight.
Vanished footsteps. Vacant gazes.
Rooted silence. Rewired answers.

Even silence has a heartbeat—
If you listen close enough.
But you would never know,
When you thrive in unbridled cacophony.

The rivulet rushes, bypassing
the appellations it will never divulge.
My hand remembers always
what my heart aches to forget.

And in the very end,
There is nothing to be said-
Not to the wraiths of the present,
Or the phantoms of the past.

Let go. 

Let be.

Turn back. 

Turn blind.

Stay still. 

Stay true.

Remember this. 

Remember me.

Come closer. 

Come clean.

Hold fast. 

Hold fire.

Break free. 

Break faith.

Don't wait. 

Don't weep.

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