What is silence?
Is it when no one hears you,
Or when the world is too loud?
Like standing in a disco,
Music, laughter, voices collide—
Yet you remain unheard.
Or walking through open grasslands,
Where nature hums and animals call,
Yet your voice dissolves in air.
Is silence found in a crowd,
Where noise drowns your existence,
And you sink quietly into yourself?
What is silence—
A truth, or an illusion?
— Ray Moonee