Silence, Stirring
A Syllabic Apocalyptic Poem
Silence
thunders
through the
flatlands.
Heard, unheard,
gaining strength,
wind surges,
slashes on.
Carries its dust,
resolute, reigns,
rushing forward
across desert,
never to return.
This abandoned place
will sit desolate,
unwelcomed, disgraced.
When did this dread silence
engulf all who had been
at once so full of rhyme,
living the best of lives,
so unconscious of death.
The silence here, stirring,
as if a bidden
apocalypse,
unaware
awaits
us.
May this piece be only a warning, not a harbinger of the coming days.
Thank you for taking the time to read! I sincerely appreciate your support.
Copyright © 2025, Robert G. Metivier. All Rights Reserved.
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I think I will start calling you, the avant-garde jazz poet…