My silence,

Your silence

Understands each other

Whether your silence is the Lord

Mine just a follower of it

It has a pride.

Its own style

Somewhere hidden

Somewhere seeable

Sometimes it is made possible,

Sometimes it is mandatory.

I have observed it,

Very bleakly

Somewhere it is a king

Somewhere it is like a beggar.

Somewhere it is like an un-wanted lover.

Burnt hearted. . .