They come like rain in a storm,
sharp, relentless, unyielding.
Filling the air, drowning the silence,
leaving no room to breathe.
Some cut like glass,
shattering calm into fragments.
Some swirl like smoke,
thick with meaning but fading too fast.
Voices collide,
each one pushing to be heard.
No pauses, no stillness-
just sound upon sound.
But in the quiet after,
when echoes settle like dust,
only truth remains,
whispering beneath the noise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem