deepundergroundpoetry.com
Quiet
The loudness of the quiet floods your ears
Making them throb with the pain of the words
That occasionally fills that empty mind
They grasp greedily, clenching
your attention in their fists
Whispering lies in hushed voices
So not to wake up the memories
from their temporary slumber
Exhausted from their horse
throats and red rimmed eyes
You can't tell truth from false
Everything has molded into one
No-one seems to notice how
long you have been gone
Owned by this maze of
trickery and deceit
With the fingers of the lost
loves you have left behind
Stretching out desperately
to pull you in
Cradling your heart in
their bloody fingers
If they can't have it now,
then they shan't have it ever
Now is the time to strike,
while you are at your weakest
Alone in crowds of uncaring faces,
greeting you with dismissal
As you sink down into your calloused hands
The loudness of the quiet floods your ears
Making them throb with the pain of the words
That occasionally fills that empty mind
They grasp greedily, clenching
your attention in their fists
Whispering lies in hushed voices
So not to wake up the memories
from their temporary slumber
Exhausted from their horse
throats and red rimmed eyes
You can't tell truth from false
Everything has molded into one
No-one seems to notice how
long you have been gone
Owned by this maze of
trickery and deceit
With the fingers of the lost
loves you have left behind
Stretching out desperately
to pull you in
Cradling your heart in
their bloody fingers
If they can't have it now,
then they shan't have it ever
Now is the time to strike,
while you are at your weakest
Alone in crowds of uncaring faces,
greeting you with dismissal
As you sink down into your calloused hands
The loudness of the quiet floods your ears
Published 17th Oct 2012
| Edited 5th Feb 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 1
comments 5
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
17th Oct 2012 9:51pm
The entire poem screams "experience" and discrimination. Your use of reverse phrases, example "And now is the time to strike, while you are at your weakest" was not only a wonderful and very powerful line to add, but it was placed perfectly. You should be proud.
19th Oct 2012 3:01pm
19th Oct 2012 2:56pm
Anonymous
29th May 2013 1:14am
This is really cool, psychotic and dark, surrounding lifeless people causing craziness. Hehe correct me please ;)
2nd Jun 2013 8:34pm
