The cry for help never sings loudly in the night but echos in loud silence

The path but a lonely emblem of what's to come
the stars a glitter of dim hope
but she walks,
her footsteps the only noise
her footsteps a rustle in the grass
but she walks

a tear slides down her face
one, two,three, four, a rain
like silver droplets running down the window on a rainy day

the silence of her tears a mirror,
a paradox to the true hurt she feels
a silent muffled cry for help
in the midst of the loud silence of the night

But the noise of the silence heightens
engulfing self as it seeks to gallop through the night
its embrace an aggressive drag
pulling and pulling until it releases the loud silent scream for help
tearing, ripping
breaking the dead silence of the night

A quiet sob escapes
the highest sound in the fight of it all
and all that is left is a ragged body
left raw in its wake
a ragged body, a battered soul