The Gift called Silence

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The Gift called Silence

Rushing to my lips were a variety of ‘amazing’ responses,
Suited for the cacophony of ‘shades’ shot at my defenses.
Begging to be released, so they wash the other
As if by this singular act, restore order.
Yet, the barricade upon my lips held it grounds,
Causing my insides to bear these painful rounds.
Taking pride and finding love in sweet words;
These, sliced deep and hurt like battle-field swords.
Silence ruled and reigned in my world of many voices,
As different options in my mind held its vices.

Toying with the script I plan to play, with no one for audience,
I created scenes and crops for that day of rewarding offence.
Silently, I weighed, analyzed and found guilty each word
Silently, the Word taunted me to give up my right to God
Silently, with pain gnawing at my core
I pushed past each unmemorable bore
Suggestions of peace came a knocking
Revenge said, “you gat to be joking!”
I had my chances to let it all out and think later
I said no, because a peace trophy is always better.

Silence is a precious gift…
I’m glad I used for this rift.

@imanikel 100221 (c) Frances Kelvin Otung

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