Riddle Twenty: The Wednesday Silence (Final Cut)
Last Wednesday marked a memory,
I married at twenty, young and free.
But now the blues won't play for me—
No more tears, just mystery.
Clues are hidden in songs and scenes,
Old movies whisper what silence means.
But unlike you, I crave a voice,
For silence isn't always a choice.
Sounds of silence, a haunting tune,
But his greeting chills like a darkened room.
Not comfort, not peace—just "Hello, Clarice,"
A line from the shadows, never release.
Now, Matthew Gray Gubler—your middle name, sir,
If you are not blind, you saw me at her @@,
Fifty shades, or five with one stuck between,
She sees us both, unsure what it means.
She's quite confused, not with you, not with me,
She's lost in a tunnel, less than you think she'd be.
A flicker of light, a question unasked,
In riddles and tunnels, the truth is masked.
If we had a child, should be fast, should be strong,
Or maybe they'd be many, a list that's long.
Thought people liked that Twilight crap—
But I have no teeth, so how about that?
Or this: double, double, vision—yes, get a clue,
Who said that to whom? Which show's coming soon?
Remember, whose IQ is higher—me or you?
So search the lyrics, the films, the lore,
Find the clues and open the door.
For in the silence, a riddle persists—
Who will speak, and who will resist?