Shayan Afzal

The quiet hums between the falling leaves,
A song unwritten, drifting through the air.
The autumn wind, a thief that softly thieves,
Steals whispered dreams and leaves the branches bare.

A shadow lingers where the light has fled,
It traces ghosts upon the windowpane.
The echoes of a word once left unsaid,
Still haunt the walls in silent, old refrain.

But silence bends, it does not break apart,
A hollow ache, yet never truly gone.
It lives between the spaces of the heart,
A distant pulse that lingers on and on.

So tell me now—when silence calls your name,
Do you ignore it, or do you remain?

What does silence mean to you? Let me know in the comments.