Screaming Silence

Empty is the silence, difficult to bear,
Hollow is the heart, with vivid apparitions, it does scare,
Blank is the mind, as plain as unfilled paper,
Vacant is the consciousness, like Antarctic evening, unfamiliar.

Numb is the spirit, it simply cannot perceive,
In pessimistic tendrils caught, hope is but bleak,
The warm confidence of yesterday is vanishing like thin vapor,
And all is frigid once more, a Siberian vesper.

Haunted are the chambers, aspiration, pale and dead,
Lost as lamb, into Lion’s lair, mislead.
Vaulted is the brain with so many spaces, in between,
The spaces, which you, once used to fill...

Striated, cavernous and sunken,
The soul is deaf, to voice of reason.
Irrational, is this screaming silence, the one but I can hear,
Maddened is the Psyche, robbed of all cheer.

Void, low and depressed,
Is the receding intellect,
When you so fully ignore, friend, when you consciously evade,
It hurts this poor soul, again and again,

When a separate way you choose, when such a cruel choice you make,
I shall be netted by the screaming void, none can liberate.

Indented, notched and pitted, I am no carving,
But, friend, when you are this away and unfeeling,
Into sculpture I shall turn, slowly hardening,
And then shall return the quiet, the silence, screaming.

The depressed song-bird sang at 11:27 pm on the 21st of December, 2009.