My poem, about the tour

[ermiticoliga]

It is the silence, the terror of breaking the heart’s sacred trust
With a misplaced utterance,
A hand that gently brushes against another
too long.
An ill-timed betrayal of that balanced agony
That keeps the flickering candle yet alight
The cold heat, frail and all consuming.
But it is the silence that like a mountain rises, distances, divides.
If only what was felt was spoken, or would that end it all?
For it is the silence that speaks hope and despair
A lonely hum of happiness almost near
What is one to do, when the soul is so betrothed to the very notion of it?
Wait in silence where nothing is resolved
Everything within reach, as close as it is
far away.

[4U2Play]

That's how I feel when my car won't start