Saima Chaudry

MURMURS

So soft the sound of silence

So quiet

Standing under the monstrous gleam of the moonlight

I stood there on the outside looking in

Stood as the mist’s mysterious fog enveloped me

Like the dark swallowing the light

A burnt out candle

Flickering in my own grief-stricken hallway

The door was open

But I knew that it wasn’t an invitation waiting for me

I was the cold draft on a dark winter’s night

While they were the seething fire

Never knowing the damage they caused

From the inside out

I looked down upon puddles of tears

Now the mirror of my sorrow

My reflection seeing through the shell to the soul

The soft whispers of the wind

Murmuring the voices cradled in my head

From the outside looking in

I saw more than there was to be seen

I saw what they couldn’t see.

The light that they were hiding from.