Every morning has a song which is sung by the birds.
There is rhythm in the rain,which it plays,
On the ground and on the window panes,
There is a tune in the breeze,which is hummed by the leaves of trees
The laughter of a child is the song of innocence.
And now that I strain my ears to catch a note of the Nature’s Melody,
Over the urban din, the out of tune music of tragedy,
I realize there is nothing that I could bear
Not even a faint jingle to keep me here.
I miss the songs I have never heard, never hummed
And most of all, I miss the song of Silence.