The soil of my throat is an itchy, muddy quicksand.
It eats every word I try to speak, quick to calculate the collateral damage.
So, a silent monk I stay, mulling my escape; sinking slowly into a meditation.
Blissful of the smooth rolling accusations of others.
The oxygen knows better not to fuel the flames of pride now.
The heart slows down to a thud.
The giant engines of steam clank and click down to a pause.
I feel the world looking at me expectantly.
The drama is too good to let go.
I’m tempted, but I choose silence over further headache.
I feel the moment of my rebirth near.
I feel forgiveness releasing my tongue free.
But when the shedding of grudges is just complete,
when the angry clouds been almost lifted,
I hear them taunt-
‘He stayed silent, cause he knew it was his mistake.’
I breathe hard, my teeth clenched.
I am not going to lose my calm now.
I struggle with the angry clouds at the bay,
I survive the waves of crashing thoughts,
I block out the mirth of my mindless opponents,
and I hear my consciousness asking very clearly-
‘How did you grow up so fast?’
I smile knowing what only I know.
I return home,
pick up my weapons
and get back to practice.
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