Hieroglyphic Silence

If this were to be our place
Then schwas in an uppercase
Would have looked like ampersands stranded
On notes written by someone left-handed.

Simple as it is, its misleading repeat
Now and then are signage for this street.
They’ll confiscate, nothing is released to you
For quiet is what you’re supposed to do

So tombs have swallowed enough their fill
Stones and gravels and locks that heal
We war for numbers but open letters
To bury our freedom in fetters.

Speak lord your servant is visiting
To those walls our ears would vie for listening.
Before we worry about what would be best
Hieroglyphs are silently part of our test.

Leonell