Now I'm torn,
Left bare and exposed.
In silence I often realize
What once I had supposed.
Reality escaping,
Never knowing who we are.
But in trying to turn back,
Only to realize that I've gone to far.

Drifting, barely afloat, I see.
What was, but now could have never been.
Lost in a sea of my own emotion,
Unwillingly controlled to sick devotion.
Just bobbing up and down,
Willingly or not.
This silence often revealing
What was once forgot.

Tangled in a web of my mind.
Searching, only to find,
A batch of cliches, livid and crude.
On the quest for individuality pursued.
Just let me go,
I think I've figured it out
That within the silence.
Truth is most horribly devout.

Yes, the silence.
Bringer of confusion.
From lies to the truth,
Yet never with defusion.
Stripping all falsehoods,
only to add more.
Bringing what it wishes
Like some insecure whore.

Yet in this silence we find truth.
Future, present, and even our youth.
Still willfully finishing what I started,
Until once again, we've parted...