The silence between the words.
The hunger for power and worth.
The attempt to enforce a regiment,
Those in the balance succumbing to the tenements of this idealistic republican state
Yet music is the silence between the notes
Drama is the expression of a censored thought
Art is the attempt to capture a moment
Which hangs like a fragile shard of elusive glass
Refracting the memories
That dwell within the illuminated reflections
of shadowed doors,
The silent demands of a life that yearns for more.
And like a thief in the night
We steal that cry, enveloping ourselves into
The complicated, pulsating, vibrating, lives
Of silently screaming others, who one day –
trapped in the confines of a univocal voice –
their lives uninterrupted
by the mingling bodies
of other others.