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