The Silent Game
His gaze as cold as ice.
The grip of his hand clutched tightly around my wrist,
while his tears fall endlessly.
Breathless, I force myself to decide.
Shall we always play this silent game;
the words caught in our mouths
and trapped and guarded by our tongues?
Heart filled with grief,
his burdens are shown openly through his soundless actions.
Will I end this now and run to his aid?
Or let the loneliness he feels
pull him into that dark abyss
that he calls his soul?
I forget the things screaming in my brain.
I speak,
and we both know
we now longer can play this silent game.
AN: I hope that you all like it! I'm sending this in for a contest my teacher wants me to win! Wish me luck, okay?