There it is, the silence

Of a windless cloudy night

Where everything is pitch-black

And full of scary things.

There is it, the silence

Of an extinguished fire

It knows it won’t ignite Itself, 

anymore.

There it is, the silence

In rooms in Hampshire

Of people sleeping in the dark

But awake in their nightmares.

There is it, the silence

Of a broken heart.

Wanting to take back time

Wishing to be anywhere.

[let's count this as incomplete. I don't know what to make of it]