Whatever Stays Silent

I know silence by the color of day,
I know her well by the voice of the king.
By the sound of secrets or that of clay
She has a full house with what she can bring.
Whenever you find her, talk of the king.

Whatever is silent comes with a numb,
holding hands with guilt, echoes of the night.
Whatever is silent prefers the dumb,
It takes the eyes of the sun for its light.

An empty tomb becomes the holding room
between the tongue and heart between our life,
when you seek to speak, make sure it’s not doom
for whatever you say can be a hive.

Find the words in your heart, lace it with strength,
let it become a shoe, check your foot-length.

Ruddapoet [TRCP]