The vows of their silence, echoes
As a screaming hum of nothing
Through the muffled white washed walls
Of a convent wall, of religious housing
...
Let my body rot amongst the bushes
Let my body decay among the thorns
Let the season decay my dead body
Let the wind, rain, and snow take its toll
...
Echoes
The vows of their silence, echoes
As a screaming hum of nothing
Through the muffled white washed walls
Of a convent wall, of religious housing
Seeming deaf, to the silence of its years
Hearing only, its consistent voice of silence, screaming
From the inside of its muffled incommunicado
They seek an audience, other than their own dreaming
Tongue tied, and mute deaf, to the tears of their sounds
Listening, hearing deep within themselves, mental screams of inability
But silenced by the shadow of the vow, a tongue tied religious dream
Silence echoes, sleeping, whimpering in its own human born fragility