There’s a silence that lurks inside us. She patiently follows our movements like a hungry predator awaiting the most vulnerable time to devour its prey. We know she’s there . . . waiting. She terrifies us.
Silence waits for us with cold, bottomless eyes, threatening to draw us into her vortex. We fight her with every distraction we can manage. We build fortresses of our vices, we swing our swords of distraction, and, worst of all, we convince ourselves that she does not really exist. Like a toddler, we close our ears and eyes and tell ourselves that no monsters lurk in our darkness.
Silence cares not. She is familiar with our worldly designs. She waits for us still. She waits, holding her one weapon of our eventual destruction. She tirelessly holds up her mirror so that, when we tire of our distractions, she may deliver her one fatal blow.