Crescendo

Our existence
Is silence
Between the folds
Of the unfolded
We reside
Watching flowers
Bloom
Under blue skies
Between the rustle
Of leaves
You can hear
The noiselessness
Of our nature
A cacophony
That envelops
Impenetrable
Impervious
To the thought
To the will
Of the outside
So we are
Cast aside
To live
In our existence
In silence