Silence

In the silence of night,
when naught can be heard,
the writing of pen
cannot be disturbed.

All things can be said
without any sounds,
but with many choice words
that are all without bounds.

Many are terrified,
of this we can be sure,
of the silence of writing,
and the ideas that are pure.

Some have been stopped
from jotting down notes,
Some even killed
for papers found in their totes.

I am but lucky
to express all my wits.
In the terrifying silence
to gather all bits.

Don't take for granted
the paper and pen,
and love the silence
they do defend.

SILENCE IS GOLDEN