the

the quiet bites
the volume hurts
the stillness robs meaning from your words

the tone is cold
the hands are colder
the work’s not meant for one to shoulder

the view’s obscured
the air is thick
the circumstances will make us sick

the light is dim
the urges fading
the end will come, there's no persuading

the choice was made
the words were said
the mouth's full but the soul's not fed

the effort's gone
the stamina
we tried but what remains is the...