When the air is cold as ice
When the noises is quiet as miceNot even a single pin hitting the floor could be heard
Not even a single word could be slurredControl is power and power is control
The silence is pierced by the voices
The voices of life and the voices of deathWhile my heart beat pounds against my chest and jugular
The deafening screech of human kindness echoed in my mind-Lila • May-