Silence, you have taken him,
The one for whom my ink flows
The one for whom my passions flare.

Does he rest easy in your arms
As he used to rest in mine?

Now there is nothing to embrace
Save for memories of whispers in the night
For, Silence, you have taken him.

The stories, the music of conversation have ebbed,
Their last strains lingering, treasured in my thoughts.

Must you guard him so jealously
And hold his charms for your own?

For all I ask is but one word,
My name, breathed soft upon his lips,
Lips now claimed by Silence's kiss.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Lupar, in the year 594 AF.