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Deep wells

A little frog in a deep barren well,

lost, restive, he croaks to himself,

the ringing hollowness, his only friend

echoes of his own voice, his only foe.

He hops and limps, then falls bereaved,

long unforgiving walls, why don't they yield?

Drops of rain and hope, the fall enervates 

spiraling unending walls, why don't they help? 

The fish-eyed night sky offers only a glimpse,

glimmering ominous stars, why don't they reveal?

Reveal to him the sorrow of emptiness, 

so he can cry and make peace with his fate.

Reveal to him the joy of unwavering silence,

so he can unburden his soul of many a scream.


 



 

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Listen to the first chirps of the early bird, that shatter the silence of breaking dawn, But it is the silence that lets it be heard, and it is the darkness that light creeps on. Listen to the squeaks of the bank of a river, that lets the brooks and creeks to flow through, Listen to the falling leaf and its quiver, that lets the earth blossom with many a hue. Listen to the cries of a newborn child, who gets ready to carry the burdens of life, Listen to the shivers of the man on the street, who waits for seasons that are just a little mild. Listen to the quarrels of old men on the park bench, for they have nothing to lose and lot to strife, Listen, to all the loud clamours of breath, But bear in your heart the deafening silence of death.