A Silent Town Poem by Woru Sulyman

Awoken in a silent town,
Filled with murmurs of market folks,
And sound of engines or bike-men's horn.
A town silent to glorious talks.

Petty musings a long stale bread,
Honor and chivalry a far flung thing,
Honesty, a thing delicately thread.
Perhaps! our fore-dad's sin.

I've heard of plays under the moonlight's shine,
And tales told on dark starry nights,
The whole village, as one they dine.
Who wouldn't treasure such glorious sights!

I heard of a town so loud and proud,
Loud in it's glory of long fought wars,
Of brave single men, worth a crowd.
A town of beautiful comets and shooting stars.

Yet... I live in a silent town.