They have become a silent story,
A story written on stones and bricks,
While each brick narrates a different story
As you touch them, run your hand,
They will come alive and speak to you
Of passion, betrayal, envy, compassion, deceit, and death.
Sometimes I feel they are built as ruins,
and all the grandeur was added to them later.
Only time has the power reveal once again,
The alluring perennial beauty.
Don't they resembles a woman
whose true essence lies underneath the layers
Creating smoke screen to cover her true self.
Whatever, silence has many stories to reveal
Keep silence please.
Story written on stones and bricks give us wonderful information and silently whispers to wisely and carefully listen to the history. If you touch the hands on bricks they will convey about betrayal, envy and war. However we need peace. We get it in silence.
The perennial beauty will be revealed with gradual sensation and perception in silence only. Natural perception gives us wonder of silence. Bricks are not built as ruins rather these are ruined by attack. Woman carries natural motherhood and she should be respected.
The stories of yesteryears create their history that affects the lives of humanity.
A poem of great depth. Very perceptive and well expressed.
They have become a silent story, A story written on stones and bricks, ===a beautifully somber beginning to this poem
trying to get a hang over here SILENTLY NEW PGMME OF PH CONFUSING NO
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How well you compared the life of past with present.