The Loud Silence
Rummaging through a cacophony of squawks Many thoughts were heard; many forgotten In the fog leading one to weary Stumbling over an ascending despondence Yet the GREY went on in hope Of a stone fluent in silence Of a rippling substance beyond void Of a symphony amidst clamour Days and nights of retries and reset Led to the longest night before it bloomed When the course took its final en-route Towards uncovering the one departed The silent spoke as the curtain rose Louder than the worldly cackle Of ideas breaking ever convention Of thoughts suggesting a lyrical prose But the world wasn't ready For the orthodox couldn’t decrypt, Couldn't afford anything but flak Painted on the walls of prejudice Years passed as the material decayed Yet the GREY went on in hope Of a hushed tide to soar again And honour what was unhailed