Silencing Scarlett 


Prescribed compliance,

Cure for the questioning tongue. 

Take your medicine. 

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Last Song 

Dissonant in rapport, 

Your instrument of judgment

And now this song ends. 

Gone Fishing 

  
In this year to come,

The year of my silence,

I will be filled with wordless songs

And unspoken sonnets. 

In the year of my silence, 
Things broken will burn 

And out of death and ash will things be born 

In the year of my silence,
Devotion will cease to be offered to unavailable lips 

And only love will learn to spill from these neglected veins. 

In the year of my silence.
                      

                    .Silence.