Silence

... and then life goes on.
There's no darker and quieter place than us, now. We are frozen. We are hiding. We are silently crying just because we don't know what else to do.
The tears of surrender are always quiet. How I wish, oh how I wish for the tears of anger or despair or injustice ... for the screams, for the fights, for the words ... And yet these are the tears of silence, we're crying.
We lost. Each other. Together. Apart. They have won. No, they have defeated us. And we now beg, down on our knees, for the pain to stop. Nothing more - just for the pain to stop. Limited. Pathetic. Lame. Quiet.

Silent pain.
And the silent tears of this silent pain are (dis)covered in darkness.

Tomorrow is another day. And I'll wait for the night so that I can cry again, and revolt against the silence with the sound of my tears crashing on the wooden floor.