In silence 

In silence lies those untold prose that one must write. 

In silence lies the human hunger to exapand every knowledge we have concised. 

In silence lies the ochestral symphonies that each mysterious chirping incites. 

In silence lies the ancient widom that mountain cloaked villagers recite. 

In silence lies the purpose of labor that the woodpecker inscribes. 

In silence lies the origin of life that a villager’s productive routine imbibes. 

But above all lies the undersatanding of one’s wretched chaos that people call life.


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