Silent feet pad past the sleeping women.
Silent feet pad past the sleeping dogs.
The floorboards are bare and my feet make no sound as I pass by the sleeping men.
Room after room I creep through the shadows. Yard after yard ‘til I reach the end, but always I must travel in complete silence afraid of no-one, but the utterance of sound.
It is dark in my travels but the moon lights my way.
It is dark in my head and so it must remain. Too many deaths I have caused with my war cry. Too many deaths from my sound.
So I creep past the sleeping and creep past the shadows lest my voice call out against my will. I stick in the night, not an angel of mercy but who I am I still don’t know.
Timber walls surround me covered in cobwebs but no spiders I see – they are afraid of my sound.
‘Tis terrible to live in this silence but kill I must not so silent I remain.
How hard is it to live like a normal to be one of those sleeping so calmly tonight?
They do not know that I pass by, they do not know that I might.
Scared they would be if I uttered a sound.
Who am I that carries this noise death?
Who am I that carries the power of life?
I know not good, I know not evil.
I just know I must remain silent, no note of my passing for life to remain.