Tinnitus

Silence is far from golden, as they promise

For silence leads only to the pounding of those palpitations

And whooshing in the brain, like a train, arriving at the station

On a frozen winter day

Arrival hours away

The waiting for that beep

A message aiding sleep

Allowing respite from momentary madness

Only to creep and seep back into the brain

Waiting for that train

Silence is many stories, many tales: for pity's sake

Building narratives of unknown actions, real or fake

Whistle in high C

Tortures me

Silence: louder than noise

Louder than a million electronic toys

Louder than chanting football boys

Silence is no peace

No release

Golden, in the fleece of wolf disguised as sheep.