pantor of the Oaks

An Unspoken Thought

I hear the cry of an unspoken thought
dripping from THE vibration of a dry eye
The thunderous noise in my pulsing veins
explodes another round of rippling tears

If only the noise would stop it be all right
the constant flooding sees the joy in surrender
Although often loss sees no need for desire
it welcomes the night were the light has no power

[Report Error]