The Amulet

Primordial noises trembled
And rose to a smearing pitch.
No sounds had ever assembled
Words to lie and bewitch...

Rumbles and rattles echoed,
Flied of their own accord...
Whispers and puffs were reckoned
First to be seen, then - heard.

Stiff muteness rarefied,
Stripped souls of their abodes.
Winter music in fumes from on high
Buried me in the posthumous odes.

Without words, dressed up cripples,
Minds grew uncontrolled in a weald.
Steadiness spread frosted ripples
That veiled by their tangible shield.
 
Blizzards clogged up the ears
And stormed my heart into a fret,
With the frozen tongue, I revered
Pure silence, my amulet. 

Languages did not exist
As voices for them were dead.
I slept among the deceased,
Silence worn as an amulet.

I could hear the cold in snow,
As well as its dry or wet;
I owned its white to bestow.
I kept silence, my amulet.

Dissected by icy blows,
I was bodiless, but not misled
By notes that died in throes
Of silence, my amulet.

No verbal flakes would appear
To shadow our speechless duet.
No shrouds of meanings would blear
Your silence - my amulet...