A Small Talk Poem by Avinash Nair

You want me to talk!
When I have no words left
To express,
When am just an experience,
Of a staggering existence
Which precedes its essence,
Trying to make that sense
Of the bits and piece that fall
Around me.
I am the tired approval
Of that silent mind,
That has known the gradual
Fall of an able sound.
Would you be kind enough,
To keep me safe,
Safe in the hands of history?
Because what we shared then
Is a forgotten lore now.
It is just like the smell
Of the moth balls
Enunciating from old clothes,
So faint, so distant
Yet so much present.
You want me to talk,
Now when my words crumble?
When I a stranger to the humble
Sympathies that I have gathered,
Is in search of a wall or corner
Where I can rest in peace.
Where silence creeps
Piece by piece.