Sliping into Silence

 

In that place of noise and ruckus

Where the cyclops wears two heads

Each one sits in the opposite view

And responds to agitations on cue

Because the cause is not in focus.

 

In the realm of chaos arises the caustic threads

Of dissension, distortion and disproportion.

Step in; step out of the excursion and blaring alarms

The River Styx awaits the fools with charms;

Charon, the Ferryman, rips all return tickets to shreds.

 

Smell the ardor; breathe in the scent of apprehension

Slipping into the silence will overwhelm all dementia.

All the words; all the curses; all damnations will cease

In the realm of silence – will be mauna vrata to sit in peace.

The art of silence is the act of total cessation.

 

Nine circles of the inferno are the pathway to dystopia

From fires of treachery to the soothing fountains of limbo.

The guide is blind; the silent shepherd is your mind.

Quench the manias; set down anger and distress; find

In the wisdom of silence – that there is a brief scene of utopia.