Silence has
internal silence that keeps the soul with so many muses. These muses are sounds
of existence; bad or good. Silence with thoughts and speeches without meaning
is what animals live.
I am an ear,
My mind's radar.
I am all ears—
In silence.
The wind has a voice.
It rustles, it whispers,
It is understood,
Speaking of wasteland rejuvenated,
Of rivers running clear,
Of myriad darkness revealed.
I hear pleasant songs
Of everything.
Still, the world is
Not so nice for me.
I lie down lonely to sleep.
While walking on
Meadows green,
I fall from vertigo to grief.
Is it the lack of lucre?
No—more a want of wit.
Is it the fear of death?
Not at all. Cheerless faith.
I am an ear—
An auditory organ
Buffeted by sound,
Touching my thinking.
And this is the life I lead:
Animal existence.
My mind's radar.
I am all ears—
In silence.
The wind has a voice.
It rustles, it whispers,
It is understood,
Speaking of wasteland rejuvenated,
Of rivers running clear,
Of myriad darkness revealed.
I hear pleasant songs
Of everything.
Still, the world is
Not so nice for me.
I lie down lonely to sleep.
While walking on
Meadows green,
I fall from vertigo to grief.
Is it the lack of lucre?
No—more a want of wit.
Is it the fear of death?
Not at all. Cheerless faith.
I am an ear—
An auditory organ
Buffeted by sound,
Touching my thinking.
And this is the life I lead:
Animal existence.
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