Silence can resemble

The loudest out-of-sync trumpets
Trying to puncture the insides
Of our eardrums.
When silence becomes too loud,
We break our guise of inner peace
And either force ourselves to speak
Or resort to actions considered bleak.
Some wear silence,
As their armour of valour.
They are stronger than the other man
And braver for having kept mum.
Their tales soon to be legends,
Their stories soon to be retold.  
Some fear judgement,
Even before they meet their creator.
What would other men say, think or believe?
So, let silence take its toll.
Some are artists
Who speak in riddles,
Let their audience figure
The answers silence holds.
If they aren’t clever enough,
They needn’t attend the show.
Others believe
They don’t have an audience.
And so, the curtains of silence,
Do not open for the show.
They let said performer
Perform for the mirror.
A hundred rehearsals
Are not good enough,
If tickets are left unsold.
But courageous warrior or artist,
Once silence has a taste for your soul,
What use would an armour, shame, riddles
Or curtains hold?
Even if thou art mistaken for a martyr,
Martyrs too are dead men,
Silenced once and for all. 
If you are silent then,
Why remain silent now?

(Picture Sourced Externally)

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