The screams fade over time
echoes fading at long last
leaving questions when hush presides
answers worse than what came before
stillness becomes the mute horror
instilling panic instead of hope
when the unknown is recognized
as the outcome hides from sight
perhaps deafness is to blame
hearing shattered by the sound
the unholy shrieking was enough
to make silent what should be heard
the vibrations still persist
an earthquake stated when tones fail
all too soon the world will break
with ears blinded to suffering
a worse fate awaits the damned
surrounded by ten thousand yards
walls beholden to no sound
impenetrable barriers without resolve
the casket buried six feet down
a resting place without compare
allows contact that's denied
when solitude denies rapport
lastly the deepest hush
is the phantom when hearing works
statements made are ignored
when the hardness settles in the heart
hard-of-hearing is more kind
or even exile would be a choice
if dispassion becomes the norm
as the screams continue on.
© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20181129.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem