Sil

The bell that chimes with all its might

The gusts of wind bring soft whistling

A heartbeat synced with booming copper and zinc

Our breaths run deep across the tight strings

An orchestra of feelings

Building up to the ceiling

As a new phase is beginning

And the unfeigned sounds keep repeating

The fruit bearing branches await in glee

That you may sit together beneath the tree

And hear that sweet melody

Can you hear the symphony?

It grows

How amusing it must be for those on the outside.
To see us stumble in the dark, unknowingly being trapped in it just like the rest of us.
They remain still, allowing all the darkness around them to grow.
They don't realize their essence is also slipping away. Perhaps it doesn't matter to them.
That's why it's important to stumble even if we fall, our bruises help us hold on.
Who we are should never be taken from us, we mustn't let it.
We need to find each other again.