‘Voice’: Silent Choice.

02 August 2007

Silence speaks loud, I had read.

It is silence now…and this I dread.

Can hear all the sounds,

Like hoarse dry winds, on dessert mounds.

Am I responsible for the same?

Or, is it a part of natures un-ending ways, and a ‘game’?

Last time there was a noise,

I was listening to the sweet ‘voice’

And was smiling with re-Joyce.

Learning about me… the first choice!

What happened during that tete a tete?

Now…is it yet again left, up to cruel, fate?

Silence is so unusual and hurting.

Since neither ‘voice’ nor me were smirking.

There was an exchange of some unusual news,

As the ‘voice’ had opened up confidential views.

To two colleagues, and not friends, from pews!

‘Voices’ opening up was something very unusual

As in the past ‘voice’ was never ever so casual.

The listeners were very moved and did break down,

Touched they were, all tears, minus a single frown.

On learning about this development,

My own feelings I gave some vent.

Should have left it, in there… and let it pent,

As I may have, a wrong message, sent.

The idea was not in the least was to lament

But, to make the ‘voice’ feel…content.

In silence now, time we tend to, spend,

Hoping that the trial will soon...end.

Nature’s ways are so cruel and so strange,

At an advance state, relationships can seldom, change.

Having crossed the milestone of silver,

‘Voice’ as voice can, now, but not, deliver.

Silently but devotedly, silences are to endure,

The warm deep feelings, so genuine, so pure.

It is not in me either, to allure,

And… find a quick earthy cure.

‘Voice’ will break soon,.. for certain.

As indefatigable faith, has its own pattern.

In trusts and not in lust, I decide to let things lie.

As ‘voice’ is indeed a sweet pudding and a tasty pie.

Silence in its own ways, is maybe, making cry, cry!

We may not know so, but nature knows for sure, why.

Hence, sit back and hear the sounds of silence,

Here them and endear them,

Every thought in itself is a pure gleaming gem.

It is all about sacrifices by us, not for us…but for them.

They as them, who, we were attached too,

Then, when we would have won, as one … from two.

Axee

Alias

ArunPilot.