Remaining speechless,
telling a story with my eyes,
words are overrated -
silence is bliss.
Remaining speechless,
my mouth is sewn shut
with a leather chord -
silence is bliss.
Remaining speechless,
I am made of stone,
my marble lips cannot move -
silence is bliss.
Remaining speechless,
I have no vocal chords to speak with,
my voice is lost -
silence is bliss.
Remaining speechless,
I am mute,
my speech turns to white noise -
silence is bliss.
Remaining speechless,
I am silenced for eternity,
with one long, bloody gash
across my throat -
silence isn't this bliss. . .
It is death.
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