Not A Sound Is Heard; As I stand There...

Not A Sound Is Heard; As I stand There...

A Poem by DepthWriter

Dare to dream, and dream to dare... Never give up!

I walked through the streets, of the old neighborhood, and I saw blank-less expressions. They were tearing down the canvas, of a once great city. Its' treasures; imprisoned them in cardboard cages, and iron gated communities. Above my head, the moon collapsed... dispersing its soul; into a million tiny puzzle pieces. Recklessly, the air drifted to the side, withering on chalky sidewalks, and dispensable Five n Dime stores. Children clamored down devastation, and with a spray can in their hand... they commenced to painting there feelings in the sky....

The sapphire disappeared behind cold, frigid temperatures- and artistry's graffiti. Buildings burn before there eyes, falling to ash, upon silty concrete pallets. The men who once were proud, fell down the deep wells of depression, despair, and distraction. Evil swarmed freely, within a sky-scape... as the stars dimmed; as if, someone turned off the lights- to the world.

On the side of the highway, a crumpled sign read; "All who enter- shall stay", surely, they did not write this for us!

Each street that bare my footstep, tore in fracture lines; like ripping pages from a favorite book. Everything the neighborhood had taken for granted.... slowly, and without warning eroded underneath the once, spiked sun, and cobalt. Dreams scattered upon sooted attire, a land retired a long time ago. Confidence fled the scene; before the face of disaster, and ran real fast- away from this neighborhood.

With our backs to the river- we fell hard- hit the land, leaving our body imprints where we landed. Even the flying creatures, fled with chaotic ambition, and fear of being like us. Lamp posts no longer line the streets- a reflection of how we once were, seen within the liquid puddles, that surround our features.

I suppose it would be... easy, to walk away- to leave it all behind. I know what you want to do, to put the hurt on something. But- you gotta hold on to the feelings, that you once had. There's a greater price to pay, if you walk away; down the lonely streets of morrow. Do not be afraid of the unknown, reach out for the sadness, the madness that engulfs us- Do not leave with stitches hanging, plates half-eaten, chores to be done, and dreams to be made.

Let me show you, how it could be... if you decide to stand, and to stay-

Suck it up, breathe, and pick up those puzzle pieces. You are stronger than you think you are- cos, deep down, beneath cages of ribs, and master plans; there is good in everything. In the blackness of the night- when not a sound is heard- I will be there.... to hold you up~



© 2012 DepthWriter

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I really like this and can see many metaphors within it. Whether they are all intentional on your part I don't know but this write certainly conjures up many visions and feelings for me..the imagery of a crumbling city, and maybe a crumbling society..the children painting their feelings in the sky, having nothing solid to spray their dreams onto anymore.
It also conjures up an image of a dark society lacking hope..and of how easy it is when stuck in this environment to give up..but the, right at the last there is a positive message..advice to look for the good through the bad and the light through the darkness. You set a scene of destruction and gloom and then offer much needed hope at the end. Good stuff x

Posted 9 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on February 14, 2012
Last Updated on February 14, 2012



Hague, NY

I have been writing for five-years, been through hell and back. My writing has evolved from rhyme, to depth... a profound deepness for all things around me. I believe as writers, we all must be able.. more..