They pull the triggers through their mind,
an insipid void left behind,
for the bullet that passes through,
is the sound of silence asking 'who?'
Whether the silence be pleasant or callous,
perilous, deadly, or sheer malice,
a lump in the throat, an incessant haunt,
yes, silence is deadly, forever a taunt.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
