Yorktown Disciple

Quatrain of Hear Thyself

I shall

When I speak to myself I
cannot hear a word
being said, or
tidings softly
thought,

All is quiet within my head,
memories blank and
fading, silence
is all I've
wrought.

There is no known cure for
fainted sounds, only
lofty wonderment
felt so
dear,

Someday when my soul feels
wise, I shall once again
hear myself speak,
loud and
clear.

Yorktown Disciple