I wanted to try poetry 🤷
Soundless peace
The days go by
Dreams are repeating with open eyes
Sleep brings no joy
Nor does it bring despair
Sleep is too quiet to enjoy
But to calm to hate
Dreams are too unusual to feel real
But too unrealistic to hate
So what of other things?
Things that bring peace and calm
Do they really do? Or is it too good to be true?
Will the calm and peace dissipate faster?
With each pass time it dies faster than the other
First a drop of water
Then a bucket dumped over a flame
It dies out
Only left with a few embers that last an eternity
Yet they never set ablaze
Only in random moments they are lit
Random wood is tossed atop them
Then they burn faster
Then water cascades upon them sooner.
But why is sleep different from other pastimes?
Is it that the mind is free to wander?
Free of responsibility, pain, and sadness from life?
Or could it be a distraction from that quiet?
That kind of quiet where things never heard are heard?
Or is that quiet so painful to the soul?
So painful that an eternity of sleep is better?
And what of those who faced that quiet?
Did they come out different?
Did they come out stronger?
How about braver?
Or maybe smarter?
No they came out with peace
Small storms and hurricanes alike may try
But they aren’t shaken
They come out stronger
They speak of truth boldly
Spend more time in quiet
And claim something strange that those of noise hate
But still they press on and speak of the quiet that is known as peace.