The silence deafens me after so much noise.
If I listen closely I might hear the distant rumble, the
fading storm moving of, thunder only a vague echo of what it once was and will
never be again – our lives governed by the back and forth, then thunder and
then its absence, the hope followed by despair over what w cannot control, only
endure, fate dictating the direction we take next, and what occurs, if we take
that trek into the unknown, we living at this moment with the silence, which we
must fill up for ourselves, derive meaning from the experience, after having survived
the turbulence, this absence of sound that causes to listen to what we already have,
the steady beat of our hearts, the drumming of thoughts and reflections, wishes
for the future, we creating our own sound when we have nothing else
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