The Silent Dinner

What I do when there is a dinner in silence

I sit in my fortress of solitude
famished from the lack of food
A couple of nibles at the corn
If only the silence would be torn

The memories of the fatal silence
that revealed a million words
even though they don't make sence
my interpertations are pure

I sit in my forest of tranquility
where there's no sorrow or self-pity
I think of myself just one moment
and then of the silent dinner God has sent

The visions of the loads of food
I wonder why I didn't take a bite
it will never be renewed
but you must mourn after a major fight

I sit in my hut of tears
knowing he is far, not near
I cry by the hour, and weep by the day
my brother's residence here has gone away