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 .