Sitting in a room 
Where only echoes are stored 
Thinking that without echoes 
All the voices on this earth 
Might have been dead at birth. 

You can wipe out all the voices with ease 
But what will you do with echoes? 
I know now why the bamboos are in the valleys.

Hills without a voice 
Gathering the echoes 
For a time drowned in silence. 

late comer did not hear the flute playing 
She only collected its echoes and left. 
The butterfly has gone 
The flutter still remains on the petals 

Listen to the stars carefully 
Their echoes have golden hues. 

Even when all the sounds are wiped out, 
The earth might live some more time 
By spending the echoes frugally. 

A truck have been spotted in the city 
Carrying echoes 
For making them impotent. 

It is impossible to predict 
What will happen to the voices 
Mortally wounded with bullets. 
All the dungeons of this world 
won't be sufficient 
To imprison all their echoes. 
00 
Poem By Veerankutty Mehfil