Silence the whispers,

Open your heart,

To the whispers of sisters,

To the silence of art.

 

To the dog's dogged silence,

As he gobbles his food, 

To the deep black of violence

That's humanity's mood.

 

We leap into action, with a wing and a prayer,

But fade as we realise the power of the snare.

Trapped, woe-begotten, at coming a cropper,

I gather my senses, then do silence proper.