Babes in the Wood
By Villefort
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I am inquisitive, yet remain silent.
I wonder if you'll spare the time to listen.
I hear the sweet whisper of nonexistance and
I see the comfort of what does not lie beyond.
I want questions, not answers, but still
I am inquisitive yet remain silent.
I pretend I am a babe in the wood.
I feel the leaves settle over my cold form and
I touch the hunger-withered arm of my companion.
I worry about those I will leave behind while
I cry at the magnitude of it all.
I am inquisitive yet remain silent.
I understand why they say we should make the most of it, but
I say that we all must decide for ourselves in the end.
I dream of freedom from the weight of thought.
I try to explain the allure, and
I hope you can begin to understand why
I am inquisitive, and yet still I remain silent.
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