The uninspiring stillness
and whispering silence,
of that lack-lustre facade
threatened, to stop your heart.
So you thought,
this calm on me wrought,
like incessant drops of water,
an old Chinese torture.
But raging storms
do rock your boat;
no pretty rhymes,
no monotony.
That proved too much
for your weakened heart,
accustomed to silence,
threatens to fail.
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