The pin dropped
And then stopped
Circles made of sound were flattened low
Joining “can’t” to words of “have to know”

And sound rose
Around those
Travesties of tenuous regard
Turning tender tenebrous and charred

The chime brings
Divine wings
Chapters set in books not fully penned
Merging “I mistook” with “duly tend”

But set low
Was threat, so
Tapestries of every spurned offense
Carried far away in burned dispense
And when the pin no longer made a sound
The only thing it left was turbulence