The silence is still there inside buried beneath the noise, like the summer grass choking beneath the autumn leaves, cause sound doesn't drive the quiet away it just covers it up.
Turn over the leaves, turn over a new leaf, through your death you will survive 'cause through his death you are alive. Do you ever feel like you're living inside your mind? What use are dreams if they stay that way?
We're united in our sadness, in our misery we are one, if we just sit there in silence it will do more than dreams ever could.
Just a short song i wrote today, it has element of rumi and khalil gibran in it, though they said it better than i ever could.
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