The nature of nature she is; very silent.
Not heard and can't be spoken about.
Silence, a poet's way to bring out words:
Break her and I see myself left with Songs.

The mother of words she is; very thoughtful.
Nourishes them and they forget her throughout.
Silence, a seeker's way to see the divine:
Break her and I see myself left with Gods.

Omnipresent she is; very generous.
Disguises herself as sound, music or words.
Silence, that music which stands alone:
Break her and I see myself left with tunes.

-The Silent Poet

The wisest of men adhere to but one policy:
That a word once spoken, is a word that shall long be echoed.
And that,silence, if made one's only legacy,
Would imbibe in them, more than just the ineffable ethos.

-The Silent Poet

With bodies made of stardust
And minds driven by dreams,
Mortals write on papers of time.
Like scrawling words at the seashore.
At the behest of purpose,
And a night's deafening screams,
Art is made in the image of man.
As he is made in the image of God.
And as waves of years hit,
Glories fade and wash away
Like the words in wet sands,

Then a symphony of souls comes to a halt,
To be sung by faceless people in the future.

May the lord; be of any name or worshiped by people of any religion, And every religion, guide you on your path. Let there be light wherever you go and let there be a place for me in your heart.

-The Silent Poet

The gentle high of the ****** Mary,
Makes midnight's breeze seem like Jazz.
A mere glimpse of your opulent eyes,
Hammers me like tequila on ice.

Now, I am a book going to print.
I write myself as myself I read.
My work weaves my days as pages,
And events therein, the bookmarks.

Come tomorrow's day thither-
Some words closer to the ******,
I shall think of past days' ink,
That lay dry in gross memory,
And wish some days ebbed-
And some others, rewritten.

If the final page comes forward,
Unbeknownst to me then-
I shall live by the little legacy,
In the journals of the reader.

The only companion of loneliness is silence.
Theirs is an unceremonious marriage like -
Couples in the middle of their middle age,
That mutually run out of things to explore.

One tries to find meaning in keeping a book,
That tells the same story a million times over-
Hoping to find white pages in the yellowed mess.
But that hope too, soon becomes a relic.

But lately I've come to love a poem,
That unites loneliness with silence-
It's the twisted compromise made-
By water when it settles in a container.
It is written on the faces of mothers-
Whose husbands are away at work.

A verse in the wind that all men hear,
To an effect that it stitches broken hearts.
It is a call for worship in an unbuilt temple
And the belief that enshrines love in trust.

'Tis like this-

The pride of men is locked in mirrors.
Laying dormant, bound in fetters.
This prisoner is presented to a fool-
Ever at the end of a fruitful groom.

Ajey Pai K

In the sound of silence lies:
A divine presence of solitude.
In this cocoon of silent thoughts,
Answers to my questions may be found.

In the sound of silence I hear;
A profound voice of Truth!
Solemn, firm and resolved it is;
The expression of Peace within.

In the sound of silence I see;
A boring sight of Majesty.
When I open my eyes, I know;
That all that is, is actually all that is not.

In the sound of silence, I listen;
To everything that can be said.
I listen, I perceive, I forget;
And I disagree with the truth.

-The Silent Poet

Little drops of water
Descend from above.
The nimbus in the sky,
Of dust and dreams,
From everlasting stars-
Make up the ocean
That bring life:
To you and to me and to the world at large.

A universal message of Peace.

Two eyes shine-
Two milky moons.
Two words rhyme-
Two divine boons.
Two hearts beat-
Two simple tunes.

The winds of time whisper but one tune and it enthuses-
The gloomy senses of a dreamy person with a shining mind.
Says to him; your life resides in travelling the world, dear son:
The waves call you unto them, with sun o'erhead and deep within.

In silent dreams cruises the aspiration of an enigmatic soul-
On the calm waves of youth, driven by a carefree fuel.
For the ocean is vast and glorious; and there are numerous isles
On which hopes could be docked and a life could be harboured.

Every person desires at least once, to live like a vagabond-
To move about places relentlessly and to flow like the wind.
Bearing the scent of people and the sound of life they go,
From place to place, revering everything from a corner of their souls.

-The Silent Poet

Our existence is the whisper of life's loneliness which echoes throughout time's length. We come into this world aimless and alone, and that, perhaps is the only purpose; remaining aimless and going alone. Life is often regarded as a journey by philosophers in their wisest opinions, but, every journey has a destination and life has none.

-The Silent Poet

The devil isn't hidden in darkness.
He is in the eyes of the girl you love,
And in the smell of the man you desire.
He is hidden in the tiny crevices of your morales,
And in your thoughts of sinful deeds.
So, do not dread the dark,
It is asleep like the will of God.
Beware of those echoes in thought-
That speak the will of demons.
For the real dwelling of the devil,
Is in the prosaic details of your life.

If you know low life and royalty
If you know how both of these work
If you have experienced both enough
You are blessed. You are blessed.

If you learn selfishness and also know selflessness
If you know which one to practice
If you know to see everything as an event
You are blessed. You are blessed.

If you can stay with the crowd.
And practice their idiosyncrasy
And if you still be yourself
You are blessed. You are blessed.

If you mingle with the crowd.
At the same time, stand out,
If you know to keep virtue while;
Being non-virtuous then,
You are blessed you are blessed.

If you practice all traits of men
And if that doesn't affect your self
If you still are unaltered
You are blessed, you are blessed.

If you know the fine line
Which separates habit from addiction
If you can manage to he safe
You are blessed you are blessed.

-The Silent Poet

Heed not to the words of the world.
And heed not to the wavering mind.
Heed only to the majestic hand of life,
Kneel only to the solemn love of God.

Love not the glamour of youth.
Adore not the glittering dreams it gives.
Believe in one simplistic life
And make it divine as long as you live.

Live not like the common stock of people.
Live not like the worst of their outcasts.
Live like the ones who run away,
Never to return and never to see again.

-The Silent Poet