Nothing left to say...

When you can't take no more the clutter of words,
For a fleeting second of silence, you'd kneel and pry,
When mere syllables seem to stand in the way,
You just realize that there's 'nothing left to say'.

How hard you'd wish to drift apart from all that pretense;
How far you'd to go to re-claim that lost innocence.

Sometimes you'd wish to just stand and wait,
To watch the blindingly bright sky give way to crimson red;
To signal the end of deception and all that is a haze,
And to be able to say that there's just 'nothing left to say'