The Killing Of Thrones

January 16, 2009
By
Silence is golden, surely solely in dreams,
Surely only in safety, ironic it seems,
That silence is sanguine rapture that screams.

Softly I wept, until fin’lly I slept,
In the tomb of sounds gone away.
And although I was certain, a figment this curtain,
I soon found my conscience to blame.

For all that I’d done, one hundred and one,
Breakers of silence I’d slain.





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