Home Of The Silent Poem by PHUMLA KHANYILE

Oh city that lies in silence
With folks names written on cold stones
So silent are your whispers
Your winds chants louder than songs
Does peace really reigns in you?
Are their souls finally at rest?

How true is this I do not know?
Until I lower my anchor there
To lie motionless beneath concrete floors
With few lines telling my tale
Jotted small on lonely headstones
In a bed of dying beauty of flowers

They call you a home of the silent
But who knows the screams of their voices
Just as the dust of soil covers their coffins
And the trail of hymns come to an end
Do they really remain mum?
Are they finally resting in peace?

Who can really tell?
If they've not descended to the bowels of the earth
To throngs of folks long waiting
Or if they're not ushered in with jubilation
Or they just lie there in eternal silence
While fading in the minds of those left behind

If these cold walls could speak loud
Surely they should forever proclaim
Here lies sons and daughter'
‘Men and women of all sorts of caliber
Rulers and the ruled'
'The rich and poor alike'

Perhaps these winds are whispering
Stating their cases to those who dare listen
Of chapters written but left unclosed
Of Secrets left un-exposed
Of Dreams unjustly shattered
Of the loneliness of their new home