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Quiet
‘Quiet’, they say
As I tread carefully on the 
Debris 
Ahead of me on the long 
Road
Iron nails cut into me 
I keep walking
A glimmer in the distance 
Shines 
Just bright enough for my naïve eyes to 
Capture
Where is the path is headed?
What is lying ahead of me?
I hear you ask
Though I cannot answer
Like the song of a bird
Muffled by a dark towel
The words haven’t been 
Created 
They use one word to describe the ignorant bliss
‘Quiet’

 
What does the future bring?