If what I say
Is known to you-
Do I need to say it
At all?
If what I say
Shall hurt you-
Must I say it?
Even if it be truth?
And what I may say;
If it be untruth,
All the more reason
I know-
To Not!
My words can
Scarce say
What my silence will.
This communion
Is what I know
I must employ.
But darn!
Silence in itself
Is far too powerful
For me to handle-
And so, I fall back
On words, once again
Which, in my
foolish arrogance
I believe, I can control.
Not realizing,
How these, like arrows,
Will hit, and never
Never return.
And no amount
Of silence,
Can ever heal;
Then.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so mundanely ethereal!