The sound of silence is deafening,
No matter how hard you cup your ears.
When painted demons sing a song
Of your darkest days,your deepest fears.
When you sit for hours at end,
Just staring at your shoes.
Hell,you need someone to listen
Even when you sing away the blues.
When Dylan,too,gets hoarse
After a while,fading in the darkness.
Like the rest of them,of course,
Lingering in their own solitude.
"How does it feel...?",he asks me
Two lonely souls,Bob and I.
Existence is the name of the game
And Life is the prize.....
This short verse is the first of its kind on this blog.I am indebted to the mesmerizing music of Bob Dylan,not just for this poem,but also for being a constant source of support and strength.......he has something for every mood!Cheers!