In the stillness of the night, he stands,
A heart in turmoil, held by trembling hands.
His voice, a plea, in whispers soft, he sings,
“Say something, my love, let words take flight on wings.”
The silence deep, a heavy shroud of pain,
It cuts him deeper than a spoken disdain.
He longs for her to share her thoughts, her fears,
To let the words flow, to wipe away the tears.
For in her silence, wounds are slow to heal,
He would rather feel her words, however real.
Tongue-lashes, they may sting, but they are a start,
To mend the broken pieces of their wounded hearts.
He knows he is wrong, and he admits his faults,
But her silence, it is a storm that never halts.
He begs her, “Speak to me, my love, I pray,
Let not this silence tear our love away.”
He is ready to bear the storm of her words unkind,
But the silence, it is a torment of a different kind.
He pleads for her to end this silent night,
To save their love from the eternal blight
© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
Ifedolapo Ogunniyi 