Follow your heart

THE WHISPER OF LEAVES

“There was a strange stillness that day, as if the world whispered secrets meant only for the brave to hear. I listened to the leaves, and they carried my fears away.”

The whisper of leaves, fresh winds that cry —

Have we strayed too far beneath this sky?

Perhaps the shard’s edge has cut too deep,

Or the heart’s soft murmur is bound to weep.

A cup falls, shattering in shadowed halls,

A mouse scurries through the silken walls.

Summer has fled, its blossoms dry,

Night’s harsh voice cloaks the garden’s sigh.

Bread turns stale, preserved by mould;

Life lingers on, though not all hold.

A butterfly hides from the empty air,

While water whispers, clouds declare.

The wind moans low, the oak tree bends,

Rumours grow heavy, no voice defends.

Grief drowns grief in this solemn haze,

Cold hands falter, the heart obeys.

The phone rings sharply, a hollow tone,

Echoing glances, a mossy stone.

The tempter’s jest – a cruel disguise,

In paper traps and clever lies.

Coins bow heads; they make us kneel,

Prayers rise heavy, their weight too real.

War without war, hunger’s quiet refrain,

Gold unseen, marking days of pain.