Where Solitude Lost Its Way

I had longed for stillness, a quiet place to be,

A chosen room of solitude, just for me.
I got my wish. The world now leaves me be.
A continuous silence, a hollow liberty.

I got the peace I asked for, yes, that’s true,
But it’s a hollow kind, a faded blue.
It’s the peace of a room where the clocks don't tick,
A lonely quiet, heavy and thick.

There is a peace in this, I won't deny,
A calm that settles beneath a silent sky.

But it's the peace of a still, empty house,
not the gentle quiet of a sleeping mouse.

The empty stillness whispers in the air,
And quiet shadows settle everywhere.
I trace the dust across the window pane,
And hear the quiet falling of the rain.

This isn't the comfort I had hoped to find,
Not the peaceful quiet I pictured in my mind.
This isn't the comfort of being alone.
This is the silence of a house, not a home.
It listens with me, but it doesn't speak back,
A single echo down an endless track.