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The Ringing

Through the silence
A ringing comes.
Deep into my brain it burrows.
Spreading like wildfire,

untamed and uncaring.
Growing like fungi in a dead eye-socket.
Lasting as long as the length of space.

The ringing clears my mind.
It clouds it with painful crystal clearness.
Blocking out distractions in the world.
It allows me to write.
It allows me to cry.
It allows me to scream out silently in pain.
Freely as the far off distant winds blow across the sea.
Longingly as the tranquility of a mountain side.

The beautiful sting of a metallic ring.
It makes me cry with sorrow, with joy.
So simple
So mellow
It’s on a complex level, rivaled only by quantum physics.
The easiest thing to replicate
The hardest thing to reiterate.

Through the silence
A ringing comes.
Deep into my brain it burrows.
Spreading like a disease in a village
Growing like a child in its parents eyes.
Lasting as long as the length of life.





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