When Silence is the Only Option
Sometimes words
are useless creatures –
unable to express
the anger
disbelief
and anguish at
The deaths of
sacred illusions,
illusions made foolish
by time.
If it wasn’t
your illusion
you can’t sincerely
mourn its passing
or empathize with those
who watch with sorrow
as it morphs into a
dirty cobweb in a corner
of your memory.
And the Truth?
What of that?
Where is it?
Perhaps you think you know.
Or perhaps one day
your truths will
drift away
and you will mourn them,
and bury them
without honors.
And you will have no words