The Silence Beyond Eden

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The Silence Beyond Eden  The sky, dust-laden, wears the stains of ash, while restless souls gather pearls of eternity, yet their hunger remains unsatiated. Frontiers bleed, dreams crumble into ruins, and nameless children inherit an unknown Eden's ashes. Once, your footsteps consecrated the earth, your breath sanctified the wandering winds. Now, iron and fire dictate the fate of spring. Who taught the flowers to fear their blossoming? Perhaps the giants still play their ancient game, moving kingdoms across the chessboard of the earth, while pawns of flesh and blood vanish beneath their shadows. And you remain silent, beyond the ruins of paradise. Is your silence the final mystery of creation, or the permission through which the giants reign?
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Where the Dead Still Dream

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 Where the Dead Still Dream

Do not open the graves.

Let the buried dreams

remain beneath the silent earth,

where unfinished hopes

sleep beyond the reach

of human hands.

For if the graves are opened,

the dead may rise

with stories of a hidden script—

a drama conceived in darkness,

written in the ink of blood,

and performed by minds

consumed by paranoia,

poisoned by suspicion,

and hardened against compassion.

Do not open the graves.

Let them rest

in the stillness they have earned,

far from the wounds of bullets,

far from the weight of suffering,

far from the burdens

they carried through their brief lives.

Do not open the graves.

Let silence guard them.

Let no hand disturb

the final refuge

of those who once believed

in a creed

that could not save them—

a hollow faith

left behind

with their unfinished dreams.

By Goutam Roy 

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