They sealed the doors, they dimmed the flame,
Said quiet keeps us safe,
Burned the lines that spoke our names,
And called the smoke good faith.
It’s easier to break the tongue
Than answer what it knows,
Easier to drown the well
Than face what from it flows.
So lay the ash upon the page,
Let truth forget its sound,
It’s simpler to blind the age
Than turn the mirror ‘round.
If knowledge cuts too deep to hold,
Then silence must suffice—
They chose the dark, not ‘cause it lied,
But ‘cause it asked a price.
They named the fear order, named the loss peace,
Named the locks wise restraint,
But every thought they forced to sleep
Still whispers in the stone and slate.
What’s buried doesn’t fade away,
It learns the shape of time,
And waits until the world is weak
Enough to read the signs.
So scatter ash upon the page,
Let questions be denied,
For it’s never truth they’re scared to hear—
It’s who they’d be if tried.
When knowing asks for courage born
From wounds we can’t erase,
They choose the hush, the sealed mouth,
Over truth they cannot face.
