Silence, my guide.

When their rooms fill with rhapsody of all but my laughter,

Is my absence an afterthought, in the silence that comes after.

When the spring thaws the cruel frost of December,

Does the ice in their hearts freeze any joy they remember

As white feathers fall and land on their footpath,

Where once wishes were made, now spells filled with wrath,

I wish I could go back, all those years long before

When my soul carried not, what I came to deplore.

But fate takes us all on its path of inevitable,

Whether trauma, pain or the wild and incredible,

How tightly I held the map of my own destruction,

The illusion of denial held its own dark seduction

While blood ties frown, where my truth drowned,

The silence was my guide, to my own sacred ground,

Truth stands unshaken, from the vitriol of doubt,

Like dawn cracking the night, truth finally breaks out.