Silence fell like grains of wheat
that throngs the fields of gold.
Her verve was stirred by her defeat
Leaving her voice, wavering — discrete
In hells that burn, in hells so cold;
In tears of pains so much untold.
Her silence was her last reply,
& replies were a fate — a must,
What answers may instill each why?!
What answers may instill each lie?!
In a world of undead midnight lust;
In a world of torn & tarnished trust.
Her silence camouflaged her rage,
That refused to escape her eyes.
Her frozen faith was just one cage
That no wise can slip through — no sage.
They all got strayed into her whys,
As all her silent thoughts capsize.
Her silence was all One can hear.
It dominated all bounds of time,
Within which you wholly disappear
& though her voice can’t linger here.
Her silence still sounds so sublime;
Her silence was her only rhyme…