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Quiet
‘Quiet’, they say
As I tread carefully on the
Debris
Ahead of me on the long
Road
Iron nails cut into me
I keep walking
A glimmer in the distance
Shines
Just bright enough for my naïve eyes to
Capture
Where is the path is headed?
What is lying ahead of me?
I hear you ask
Though I cannot answer
Like the song of a bird
Muffled by a dark towel
The words haven’t been
Created
They use one word to describe the ignorant bliss
‘Quiet’
What does the future bring?