| Silence’s End (Idea courtesy Paul Simon) Whispered in dreams, or so it seems, between creased seams, echo the sounds of silence. Where thoughts abound, go round and round, and never quite come out. Hallowed in halls, weathered on walls, the shadow of doubt, comes through. The leaves of the trees, sense the unease, what is it all about? The subconscious mind, its meaning unwind, as if trying to find, its way out. Someday the silence will sway, push the folds away, and shout! |
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