The KILLER: A Poem

I walk along a cobblestone road,

that leads into a wooded path,

that has no end in sight,

that brings no pleasant sounds.

The Silence is the Killer.

It stalks me at my breath.

 

I walk back into darkness,

looking forward into light.

A single sound could turn me ‘round,

solemnity lives underground.

 

Dancing in a spiral,

black widow’s widened grin,

and still I spin, and still I walk,

without pause,

without cause,

without meaning.

 

Why?

Which?

How?

Whatever?

When feet are but a feather,

the heart turns quick to lead.

 

All things die with open eyes,

and Silence is the Killer.

 

ghfool ~ circa 1990

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