When a tear falls and there is no one around to see it,
Does it make a sound?
Does it scream as it makes its way down the trembling cheek?
Does pain ever speak?
Does it whisper through the cold space of silence?
Does pain have a language?
Does it speak in the tongue of hatred?
Does it ever stammer?
Or is it fluent in the way it leaks out?
The way it defines,
The way it shapes,
The way it remains?
Do the walls ever talk behind our backs?
Is there any secrecy in pillow talk?
Does the moon ever try to talk back to us?
Celestial messages lost in vacuum of space.
Is time just a run way of life
And death our travel destination,
The point of convergence,
The place where all roads enevitaly lead?
Is there a way to stop our past from bleeding into our present?
Is there a way to keep our minds present?
To keep ourselves from straying foward into a future that is yet to be?
To stop worrying?
A way to stop...
When the world forces us to go?
Is silent meant to be filled?
And if so,
What are we to fill it with?
With longing?
With pain?
With suffering?
Or maybe we just use the silence as and excuse to torture ourselves.
YOU ARE READING
Life: A Journey
Poetry"...because life sucks but that's life, unfair, unreasonable and wholly choatic but that's okay. Because it's not life that makes life worth living." - Author ("Life.. Sucks!") This is a collection of poems written by a poet that aims at trying to a...
