Shall I speak of silence?
It flows from me like an invisible tidal wave
Perfectly formed in its silent conflagration
Shall I speak of caution?
It is a paroxysmal pursuit
Couched in silence, draped in regret.
Shall I speak, then, of regret?
It flows through me with no ripple or trace
Dealing damage only realized with time
Let me speak of desire unknown
It consumes me and is consumed
Until nothing is left but glowing, ashen remembrances
Silence, caution and regret.
A stalemated, paralyzing trinity
Enemies of desire.