“Droplet of words
Collected over time
Hardened enough
To withstand
The wrath of silence
Placed carefully
one upon another
Erecting a tomb
For
The beloved scream
Who died
Isolated, stranded
In that grave
Haunted of its own
Unable to escape
Walls of the days
Built around
Thick enough to
Suffocate
passing by nights
And strangle
The leftover darkness
Kept hidden
Beneath those eyes
Wide awake
Watching themselves
Being stoned
By the rocks
Made of blank papers
Carrying stains
Of tears
And leaving behind
A trail of withered solitude…”
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