The chatter of my thoughts.

Specks of sound, stashed deep within my mind,

Unheard by all, unfound.

I try my best, and yet.

I pour my most but fail to move the slightest moment of your day.

And so I loose myself to rush of air,

The unseen race of cloud in dark my sky,

The howl of more than hope,

Fill my world this storm of night.

. . .

Gusts of high wind wake me. I start to write. I ponder on my silence in this storm of night.

ORIGINATOR · Mike de Sousa

ART FORM · Poetry

COMPLETED · 2012

Free to enjoy. Copyright maintained. Not to be used for ai or commercial gain.