My silence

Slipping through my fingers,
Holding to my thoughts...
There's a doorway to dream about,
A matchstick moment...
To burn and turn to ashes!
Then silence turns so loud,
An echo of my footsteps...
Slipping through my fingers,
Holding to my thoughts...
There is a wonderful aliby,
That would set me free-
Broken similarities found,
In my little wooden box...
Another matchstick moment,
To burn and turn to ashes...
Then silence turns around,
To look at me and smile.

-Anubhav