Try walking on the heap of fallen leaves
strewn around , dry and brown and listen
the crisp sound as you trample them .
Broken promises , do they have a sound,
is it necessary that everybody cries in pain ?
The vagrant lying crumpled on the streets ,
what could he possibly hear on a cold night
as he wakes from a nightmare .
Living on the edge of darkness
just a slip away from murky shadows
Into the obscurity of gloomy oblivion .
Keep on waiting for the promised train
that will transport him away
from all this reasons of misery , for once and all .
At a distance far away ; all sounds fade ,
even the loud wails of tormented souls .
Drifting like smoke in the vast expanse of space
scattered remains of silent unhappiness .