Silence is alive,

though its essence dead.

Silence is a mood, 

and action,

something never said.

Silence is bitter cold in

a winter storm,

only the wind rushing by.

Silence is nature,

so vibrant and divine.

Silence is torture,

never hearing a sound.

Silence is broken,

conflict bold and loud.

Silence is broken, 

problems mended, bound.

Silence is clear and 

quiet as day,

but serene all the same.

Hurting,

troubled, 

drained,

it’s really all the same.

Silence is.

It just is.