Poetry: Salvation


There is a certain silence
A form of absolute solitude

We crave
We desire

The quiet
Before the storm of anxiety
Runs rampant

The beats of each second
Allowing us to breathe
To render in peace

A quiet
That isn’t lonely
Nor sad

A peace
For the mind
To work things out

In the depths of solitude

We wish
We crave
We may even find

Our salvation

About Maison Moonchild

A Canadian gal that firmly believes words can change the world. An avid reader, writer and Halloween enthusiast. She has a special interest in communications and writes for pleasure and profession. She moonlights as a metaphysical maven with a knack for creating magical crystal jewelry and holiday accessories.
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