I choose silence over dreams

sealing my lips tightly

so I don't bust at the seams.

My heart shadowed and turned

will go into hiding

to secret its wounds and burns.

Where once was howling of glee

innocence was brutalized

by a sun that could not see.

With blinded eyes I saw the beauty of the Beast

but I sang his songs in secret.

And now another shares the feast.

I'd tear my clothes, but they are already ragged and torn.

I'd tear my hair, but Fate has seen it shorn.

One ritual remains: to honor and to mourn.

But how does one mourn what has not gone?

In silent tears I fear, for dull is my song.