Unsaid

Empty silent sound
Of the unpounding pound
The unbound unamed
With no meaning tamed
Everything we say
Fits the word unsaid
What is yet unspoken
Is forever left
Fits the silent theft
What is left unsaid
Belongs to the unbound
The searching of the poet
The wandering vagabond
The preaching of the prophet
But it´s yet unsure
Whether faith is truth
Whether truth is true
Is the truth untrue?
Like the dying word:
It´s always meaning end
But never ending dead
Yet it´s saying death
It´s also meaning yet
It´s never reaching there
It could be meaning end
But it´s never lying dead
& ends up saying breath
As if it´s lying lies

Salvador Passos