Lyric

No pages turn

No voice remains

Only silence speaks my name

Buried beneath forgotten stone

A tome unread, yet not alone

Its pages hum with soundless cries

A symphony of muted lies

I touched the ink, it touched me back

A whisper through the mental crack

The Black Tome of Silence calls

Where no one speaks and no one falls

It binds the soul in sacred sleep

And sings in echoes far too deep

Words unspoken still remain

Burned into the reader’s brain

Each letter screams, though none are heard

A cursed verse without a word

It knows my dreams, it steals my breath

It writes in sleep, it chants in death

But in its void, I saw the key—

A truth no voice could ever free

—Read between the lines of dust

Where silence sharpens every trust

No scream, no sound, no final plea

Just the absence… becoming me

The Black Tome of Silence bleeds

A lullaby the cursed one reads

Not written, but engraved in skin

The voice of silence dwells within

And when I close the final page

The world forgets its silent cage

But in that hush, if you still hear—

The tome is open, I am near