It’s about the stranger silence.
Love it, when I need it;
And hate in its abundance.
Induces warmth of intimacy,
When winter takes in its embrace.
Knowns become of help,
When need is at its paramount.
But helpless I sometimes feel,
When all I get is prejudice of justice.
The silent stare in the dark
And a timid whisper to myself
Give notice of something unusual,
That, sometimes, a stranger is all
One needs to fill the vacancy of a moment.