Sing sing sing

"or the life that you bring won't mean a thing"

...it's a gift... a god-given talent...

and I've lost it all.

"We will definately miss your voice."
I miss it too.

When quietness gives way to silence...
... and peace to nothingness...
... and clam to stagnation...

that's the beginning of ceasation and the birth of inexistance.
... the end of being and the death of essence.

That's not quiet what it's meant to be, and the danger of it all is that the line between these concepts are almost invisible. But the difference between them is polaric.

For the Love of God.