Being The Silence.

A bird split the silence
The split was the song
The song of my conscious, and
Of my silence was thus
Born.

Visions of ages and brains,
In my histories and my darkness, those
Riding waves and fools,

Now seemed dead,
By my own will only
I found and kept
My song of silence.

Being the silence is never
A resting place,
It is the will in action,
It is addressed, it is in an intention,
The only purpose being to
leave all around me
Absolutely alone.