The Crown of Silence

I was once a child,

abandoned, reviled,

crying to heaven where no answer smiled.

Yelling filled the walls,

A father’s fury, a mother’s worry.

His anger spoke louder than a warm embrace,

and left me searching for a softer face.

Perfection was my fortress,

a silent vow I’d never confess.

Perfection was my fortress,

but love could never caress.

At eight, the phantoms circled my sleep.

Unable to keep the innocence deep.

The sins whisper within, waiting, wallowing.

Now grown, the child’s heart of stone is known.

Bitterness enraptures the mind as time slips without a rhyme.

It captures and binds the souls, which consoles the spirit.

The crown, which was profound

Is silence without a sound