And so there is silence
That lingers in the air,
A solitude that refuses
To be ignored.
It capitalizes
On the isolation
Of our minds
And bodies
From one another.
It seeps in and creeps
Like a parasite,
Burrowing further
Until it is rooted.
It is a loneliness,
It is doubt
It is detachment all about
So that we cannot help
But to be grey,
Isolated.
This is solitude
This is silence
This is what defines us
In our weakest, yet most
Dangerous state.
To this and more
It is my only hope
That I can shake this silence off.
