the omnipresent scent

It appears as an access denied

The need is superficial

Not much to be seen

However, there is the helpless

   Or the helplessness

Of it all

   Of eternity

But what can I do? What can I say?

Eternity may be long but this circle is far too endless

  for it. There is nothing but the silence.

And the sound.                   

To be silent there is a lack thereof but is it?

What is my silence but a loss of surrounding space.  A

A loss of what reality. Of what is supposed to be,

Is silence a loss or the nonexistence?

I cannot help but wonder in my silence is there only this

endless roar of gears and clacks. Is the helplessness

a route to no one a total loss of self.

I do not know.

But…have I ever? Don’t try to answer.

 

There is none.

That.

That is my silence.