This is my sad tale of survival,
and its so sad that it's sweet...

I shall cast my eyes upon the hills,
from whence cometh my help...

Hello, my name is Silence
I live on barren dirt...

Soldiers walk onto the field
heads held up high...

How should i start this..
"b" is for old Benedict who wasn't all...

Take your silver and your gold
roll it up into a mold...

And as they look back onto the scene,
blinking lights cut into their faces...

You see me
but you can't see who i am...

This is the poem
you'll wish you never read...

My little secret
all safe in my mind...

This is my prophecy
this poem I write...

Things that will never be said
shown on her face...