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I have no voice—
Silence has nestled within my words.
Now and then,
Breaking through the hush,
A whisper escapes—
Soft at times, solemn at others,
And sometimes, a cry of anguish.
Between every spoken word,
A quiet tremor lingers,
A shiver that bears the weight of silence.
Each word longs to express a thought,
Each tremor echoes the soul within.
The murmurs in my speech,
The sorrow in my silence,
Have become my voice.
Each word, hesitant and trembling,
Unfolds into verses—into poetry—
Dancing upon the page.
And every poem,
Stands like a bridge
Between me and the world.
What more is there to say?
My voice will echo—endlessly.
Image © Varala Anand |
