It used to be screaming cries.

But what happens when a scream dies.

It's left with silence, on candle light.

But what's one candle in the blackness of night.

You can't fill the empty hole inside.

It's hallowed out from all the times you tried.

There's only fragments left and so you hide.

Just waiting for the pain to subside.

Why has it become so much more quiet.

When moments ago it was chaos and riot.

I extinguished the only spark.

Now I'm just tiptoes in the dark.

Author's Note:

I wrote this poem with @Infinitely_Burning a few years ago, when we alternated writing each line. 🖤

-I. Quill