You are just standing there,
Looking at the things around you,
Wondering whether they can hear you,
Or see your smile or your pain,
These things which you see,
Have a life,
The life of their own,
They have their own world,
The world which awakes,
When we sleep,
The midnight trail which we forget,
They follow,
Follow it to the hollowness of the darkness which prevails,
The silence of the dark,
They are the noise of the period,
They are the ones with eyes wide awake,
The eyes which is cold and numb,
Which conveys nothing but only fear,
The eyes which has the power to speak,
Remains quiet,
The serenity of the night,
Is disrupted by the paranoia of tomorrow's day,
The illusion of night being calm,
Is disillusioned by the uncertainty that it has,
The water seems disturbed,
As if trying to keep shut the devil inside it,
You don't have a clue,
The things we see lifeless,
Are seeing us as lifeless,
We don't always want to hear these things,
But these things are nothing,
But the ramblings of the inner lifeless things..!!
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