(#2) Silence.

A man stands up

On the street,

Dishevelled, unkempt, ragged,

He opens his mouth.

Inhales, expells-

Words which pierced the everyday concept of silence

Of the bustling street.


Audacious, effective, fortified

The song of an imprisoned heart

Bursting to be free in which

Landed, landed,

Landed on the ears of many but

Dissolved-


An inpenetratable barrier that hinders

The ability for a heart of all colours

To care and understand.

Shatters the call for aid

None stop to think, these days.


Gravity takes the man to his knees,

Undignified, unrespected

People double-take his figure.

A dog, an unproductive son of God,

Taking on the world to serve no purpose,

They mumble and spit.

Just a coin or two, or something to drink,

Have you all no mercy?


He gives his last breath,

Pained, exhausted.

He wants to say more,

But he knows he can't carry on.

His empty stomach-

A week he lasts,

Two weeks he suffers,

On the third he gives his spirit.

Can men stand up,

A holy book, or charm in hand,

And swear that given the

Chance to turn back time,

They would still allow this man to die?

Lord, punish not your people.

They do not know what they are doing.

Protect us, give us the Silence,

So that we may hear Your voice.


If only every being observed that Silence

No man would die by bullet or sword,

By pain, by melancholy.

We would walk the earth with Jesus at our side,

For everyone would be an instrument of peace.


The world, again-

Eden.