Empty pages

Life is like a silence voice is its death

They move shoulder to shoulder

But they never can go together

The fading black darkness wakes the voice

And the voice kills the silence infinite times

Then in a dark tool shed

Voice hears the screams of the silence

At dusk silence starts getting shivers down its spine

Justice done only for the first crime

 

 

Just when the Sun returns to the cemetery

Singing songs of his history

The silence awakens the necropolis

The keeper likes peace in his cemetery

The keeper loved the songs

But couldn’t relate them with his story

It takes two for deliverance

He hailed at voice without violence

Music can’t exist without silence

 

Sitting nearby under a fig tree

The puppeteer brings back his memories

He soon found the God’s ineffability

Listening to songs of this cemetery

He read the Timebook of clocks infinitely

Finally swimming in the vast river of life

He reached the immortal silent forest of dreams

Twas divided in two halves; one barren and other green

Where the Lion imprisoned him and blurred his memories

 

 

  

 

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