Silence

Silence, as if life has been pampered in a box with a spring. Is it the trees that breathe, or the grass that pants to blow out the sun? Silence, like a grave that dies in a box with a spring. Is it the clouds that are striping, or the earth pounding to wake heartbeats? Silence, as under a purple canopy in a box with a spring. Are they rough cries that gust, or a tear on a strawberry leaf to tell of delight? Silence, for the grayness itself around stabbing pain of hearts entwined. Is it sound for the sake of sounds, or is the ending destined to make lilies bloom? Silence, like emerald of what is past, like endless groping in warm darkness. Is it a circle that seeks itself, or a breath that breathes itself, fetters of whispering? Silence, as if life has been pampered in a box with a spring. Is it the trees that breathe, or the grass that pants to blow out the sun? Silence, like a grave that dies in a box with a spring. Is it the clouds that are striping, or the earth pounding to wake heartbeats? Silence, as under a purple canopy in a box with a spring. Are they rough cries that gust, or a tear on a strawberry leaf to tell of delight? Silence, for the grayness itself around stabbing pain of hearts entwined. Is it sound for the sake of sounds, or is the ending destined to make lilies bloom? Silence, like emerald of what is past, like endless groping in warm darkness. Is it a circle that seeks itself, or a breath that breathes itself, fetters of whispering?