Or the endless feast of pretentious words
They make up who you are
Satisfying words for the mere second they're alive
Indulging because you're famished
Speaking because you're speechless
Standing proud because you're void
Yes these things are like noises
Filtering the whispers that pinch deep into your conscious
Noise that kills sweet moments of realization
That life is more than popularity
The fairest in the land has no need for proclamation
The air they carry is enough
Because jewels can easily be replicated
Anyone can boast of personal gain
Singing sweet song of satisfaction
But when genuine acts overflow from a substance beneath
That is enough to quiet any impostor
And there's nothing wrong with silence
Because noise is everywhere
Words of silence linger in the air
