Silence is a Mirror,
a wakeful mind in the night.
A vast desert of skeletons,
with wind that blows whiffs
of bone dust and core.
Of the Mirror, many
are afraid;
afraid of the darkness
whose hand claws, clutches
at their heads,
pulling them to peer into
the Mirror they do not want to see;
not to gaze at winged creatures
they were taught to hide;
terrified of their own nakedness;
the wild knowing in their eyes.
the symphony of crows in their voices,
the blood and dirt of their hands,
the smell of leather and bone,
the coarseness of crushed skulls
grinning underneath their feet.
See no evil.
Hear no evil.
Speak no evil.
And many were afraid,
of the Mirror.
And they prayed for sandstorms
that will cover with Earth
the Mirror they are afraid of,
and take them up
to the bright firmament of forgetfulness
called Reality.
