A Story of Silence

Never again will the candlewick burn
And never shall night become day
The darkness has come to rid the world of happiness, laughter and play.
No more dogs to howl at the moon
Just a silence that's not to be broken.
No more children to play on the swings
There's now nothing left to provoke them.
The dead, gnarled tree in the silent field
From which an eagle had watched it's prey
And the bells in the church that once played tunes
Will remain silent for ever and a day.
The flowers in the garden are shriveled and dry
And the fires in the houses are cold.
The grandfather clock in the hall has stopped
But the clock is brand new, not old.
No flame, no day, no laughter, no play
No dog to howl at the moon.
There's no children to play on the swings anymore
And no eagle to watch and loom.
The bells in the church are quiet and still
And the flowers in the gardens have died.
The fires in the houses are long out cold
And the stopped clock is new, not old.
What happened here will never be known
And the story shall never be told.
The candle flame will never once burn
And laughter shall never be heard.
CTM©