SHARPNESS OF SILENCE

The city once woke to birdsong, but now it wakes to alarms.
To the cries of children who have grown up
with melting glaciers on their screens.

They need breath and water; they want a tomorrow where their empty bottles are filled.
The village forgot the sound of youth.
The young have left; only the elders remain.

They bear memories of harvest when fields sang with grain.
The ground forgot its voice; the laughter is replaced.
The village gets to breathe only during festivals.
The village waits for footsteps that will one day stay.

Inside a forgotten library, the books sit in rows,
their spines cracked, whispering stories with roaring silence.
When the doors opened, the young knew The battles between ink and imagination.