Pilgrim of Silence

I hold these roses, tightly
Inside my hands
Its thorns pushed inside my skin
Drops of blood
Stream down to the earth

I stand in this long queue
Waiting for my turn
To place this bunch on that black box
To weep at my dear friend’s departure

He said that he was pilgrim of silence
He said that he romanced silence
He said that this revelry was maddening
Revelry of talk
His words were few

I saw his books on his table
Stacked high as walls
I saw him trying hard to find
That word to show his feeling,
To express his heart,
He never poured out a drop
His face dry as desert

He said one day
He would strengthen his legs
For a pilgrimage,
Where is heart would revel in peace
Where he would sleep with silence

Clouds Heavy and dark
Waits to pour down

I have come close to the pilgrim
His face hidden under this wooden box
I don’t know if he is smiling down there
I wish I knew his last words

In silence
He lies
His wishes granted
A gentle breeze blows

I’m the last one to throw
This bouquet of flower
To his hardened heart

On his epitaph
I read “I’m the pilgrim of silence
And I have found my pilgrimage”

Written by vinal raj r on August 31, 2009.
Time: between 7:30 pm and 10:30 pm