No more profound pain in this present;
It is a real gain in the shadow crescent;
Nobody's life is entirely free of any sorrow;
All you created without a need to borrow
The mind always seeks to deny the current;
Intensity of pain depends in this moment;
Imagine the Earth devoid of human being,
All we  need is  time; mind of a well being,
And when we are gone, we are forgotten,
Without a trace, as if we never even existed.
And that's all, a simple and a fine life,
Well lived, fine loved in a mild silent way,
When a dwelling has just lost its soul,
a wounded silence falls over
the sudden emptiness
that no one will fill again.
And all the noises that may be made later
in that house will be like a scandalous din,
ugly echoes from one room to another,
from one corridor to another
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI