Divya Manocha

Edition XXVII

Silent Witness - by Divya Manocha (Photo by Ajmal Cholakkal)Photo credit: Ajmal Cholakkal

Silent Witness

By Divya Manocha

The voice is an instrument-
An instrument of change-
Instrumental to change.

A balloon, inflated with opinion
now deflated by societal dominion.
No longer free to express
neither to the people, nor to the press.
Only free to watch mankind regress.

There’s been a drought on my tongue
for not a word has been said or sung.
Sweat saliva needs to flood
to satiate the rage in my blood
for a sound that will sound the alarms of society
an alarm to wake from impropriety. 

My true colours expressed by speech
now begin to bleach.
Rust is now the only colour-
the colour of my voice box.
That which produced words of steel
has fallen prey to the clocks.

It’s a loudspeaker put to mute 
Virtually of no use
Truth has blown a fuse
Now fake news is no new news
there are too few of the true views.

In a society where walls crumble 
if only I could spare a mumble:

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