Fourteen lines, no matter – were it more,
words of consequence
trip across a stark white stage
awaiting significance to tickle their extended limbs.
I am here, I spoke, I have spoken –
yet the sound of silence roars past their meaning
Does anyone listen, does anyone hear?
Their irrelevance wails in the wind,
scratching at our floors of dust
we hold ourselves shrieking
in endless sandstorm
as powerful lines lose their soul
and the world seeks the hush
© Sumyanna 2017
Fabulous image courtesy of Pixabay.com