Sky is approaching

Away from a tumultuous world

And the ones claiming they are the walking truth,

Pine trees are stilling.

Whispering to very few:

 Sky is approaching.

Behold the unchangeable truth.

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3 AM

Who are you at this hour?

– Silence.

   A part of you. A shadow.

   The one that has heard, yet unheard remains.

    The one that notices, yet unnoticed remains.

     The one that writes your unwritten despairs.

      I bring your kind big night and cold upon your skin.

– Silence, my dear old friend, what can I do for you?

– Write me!

I don’t want to be a part of a herd.

But write me down, please!

I want to be heard.