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stillIshallbe

silence partakes
of all that we matter –
streams through the kitchen
and runs down the hall
forgotten the sound
of laughter repenting
ignorance waits
to steal from us all

weak from the struggle
stronger the scars
are folded as wings
paper white –
the last time we noticed
was the first
we were loved
as silent to speak
in defense of the night

were morning left over
love coming down –
as black turns his face
on the dawn
little we know
the end just beginning
as destiny wills us
remember –
move on

. . .