Beardy Guy Musings

Reckoning with a storm.
Just a feeling really.
Pulled apart in desperation.
Pushed against a wall by a crowd silently chanting.
I can't make it out.
What's being said or not said.
I can't make it out.

The chant is deafening.
I feel it and hear it but can't make it out.
Like an ever present echo.
A reverberation.

We're bound and contorted by choices that are not ours.
We're bound and contorted by voices that are not ours.

And the chant is deafening.
It feels like desperation.
The silence is deafening.
A reverberation.

The crowd is silently chanting.
And I can't make it out.