silence brought only the ringing of ears

I compare it to the rotting of fruit
the decomposed silence
flatlines
in endless pitch
the same screaming voice
through all my worlds
of silence
I have longed
for the still sound of night
the interruption
of a distant twig
snapping
the wind soft murmuring
through an orchestra
of leaves
and the odyssey of thoughts
that rise
in clarity
from the ponderous trove
of learned sorrow
accumulated joy

 

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