Rome raised its Forum, Greece carved marble halls;
We wander, lost, through neon-gleaming malls.
Each empire—resplendent, then silent, gone—
Ghostly echoes in hallways, history moves on.

Your smartphone flickers softly in your hand,
Yet silence answers, subtle and unplanned.
An empty ache expands within your chest,
Where loneliness settles in, an uninvited guest.

We raised our steel towers to pierce the sky,
Wired every voice but never questioned why.
Through rows of pale, unblinking, fluorescent screens we’d stream—
Yet as we reached for more belonging, the fainter it would seem.

How strange that in our loudest age
We’ve written silence on each page,
That in our most connected time
We’ve lost the reason and the rhyme.

So here we sit in crowded rooms
Crafting intricate digital tombs
From pixels, likes, and endless scroll—
The sound of silence swallows whole.

The universe expands, they say,
Growing colder every day—
But we beat it to the punch, you see,
Perfecting our own entropy.

Listen: can you hear it in the space
Between the heartbeats of a dying star?
The sound of eight billion human souls who face
The mirror, finding strangers from afar.

For this is silence: not the lack
Of sound, but souls that can’t track back
To when the world had weight and worth,
Before we hid hope beneath the earth.

What traces linger after words depart?
A fragile note from a haunted heart—
In silence, stories flicker, fade, rearrange,
And even sorrow learns the grace of change.

The hush that lingers needs no voice—
It was, perhaps, our finest choice:
To speak so much we lost our way,
And silence had the final say.

Beyond the glass and withered spires,
The wild returns, the green aspires.
Silent roots shatter our hewn stone—
Nature’s quiet voice reclaims her throne.