Caught in the Quiet
Visage a white painted face, A mime of statue Dress in black, under the spotlight of a stage The Man, Silence as he stands Quieter than a low blown whisper No air to brush one's face No sounds to kiss one's ear Privy is his secret language As facial expressions are his words The man who holds the tonuge of a mute.... The treasure chest of all things hidden.... For black stictch lips of the dead... Are the true keeper of secrects & the truth is buried deep instead The breathe from lips of lies stay alive !!!
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