The Pressure of Silence

The less I feel,
the more I see.
The less I hear,
the more I think.
The smaller I am,
the further I go.
The less I care,
the more I know.

The pressure of a storm,
is a force unknown.
In the eye of a hurricane,
a tornado is born.
Why cant I handle,
the lowest form,
a pressure that ruptures,
leaves bodies torn?

Silence is deadly.
I wish I knew,
the energy of nothing,
is endless and few.
If evil is distraction,
and good is all,
do trees still make noise,
if no one sees them fall?

Does a butterfly wings dictate,
the end of the world?
Is the end just the beginning,
in a tilt a whirl?
Does silence sabotage,
an acoustic design?
Is silence the vibration,
of the divine?

Open your eyes,
see the light.
Feel the rays turn to wind,
and wind into night.
Night becomes cold,
to the heat of your breath.
I can hear you breathe,
when you sleep and dreamt.
Thoughts become actions,
consequences reflect,
You open your heart,
to a butterfly's quest.
In the heat of the summer,
before the night steals the day.
You sit in the ambience of life,
then you pray.

But, what if I took all of life away?
What if I left you in silence,
would you run away?

The pressure of silence,
is no escape.
To be trapped between echoes,
but,
never restrained.

Be free of life.
Be free to think.
No reason to cry.
No reason to blink.