Unseen, unheeded strands of existence,
Unheard is their Sound of Silence,
Dark faces smeared with dirt,
With traces of fear and hurt.
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Avinash... This one is really nice... I guess the poets are the only magicians who can make the silence speak...
wow another great piece you are a real talent i bet do read my poems and plz comment
That occasional sound, The audible pain, is the essence Of their Sound Of Silence. painful descriptions..... i was suddenly thinking of the locked of young girls for prostitution in Bombay. there was once a tv broadcast about it. your present the sounds of silence of the poor and the needy and the ones who are unjustly enslaved. tony