The Weight of Silence

The bond lies shattered —
A thread nurtured through ages.
The earth's heart, torn apart—

A wound too deep to heal—
Fields no longer whisper to the wind,

No grains sing in their sway,
Rivers once flooded with joy,

Now stagnant veins,

No longer nourish the land below.

From distant mountains,
no flame ascends—

to pierce the heavy dark.
Echoes, once a chorus
through the desolate woods,
now lost in the void—
a silence that swallows all.

A silence—deep, unending—
haunting the lifeless city.
Smoke curls, heavy, in every direction— 

Dripping like clouds 

From shattered roofs.

The mud houses stand,
abandoned, silent in decay.

Lonely streets long for life,
Yearning for the rhythm,

Of the water bearers' steps,

Lost to time’s shadow.

The evening cloaks the city,
a veil of shadow, oppressive and deep.
Where silence settles, thick as dusk,
and shadows press their claim.

Now and then, a cuckoo’s cry breaks through,

Cutting through the rustling of the leaves.

Warning of serpentine whispers:
"Our bond frays” and it slips away.

The evening wraps the city in shadows,
an unyielding stillness deepens.

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