A Sonnet

This is an attempt to discipline the ideas in my head into a controlled pattern. I have never written a poem before so randomly embarked 'the sonnet' as I figured it will be a structured way to capture my thought. Be gentle dear critics, remembering this is my debut, and read it out loud! (surely the golden rule in reading a poem)

Quenched

"Open", the Calling's message becomes clear
And illuminating, through the reach down
To draw my hands from covering each ear;
I listen, waiting for what is spoken.

Muffled voices echo from below.
The silenced are drowning, deep in a well:
Their stories and dreams have no place to go.
Forbidden to sing; forbidden to tell.

Straining, I approach the structure, and see,
One stone that was formed from my indifference.
As it crumbles, others stop and draw near.
Their presence will demolish the silence.

Calling, sweet Calling interrupt my walk,
Without you I am deafened by my own talk.