There is no wind here
All air is still
People move in faceless numbers
With eyes without pupils
Minds without thought
There is no shame here
Only resigned acceptance
Overwrought thespians
In a play without plot
Humorous faces ... defeated
Cynical smirks ... dry
Puncture the pregnant silence
With a madman's scream
And plunging their silence into ...
Into a void, a hollow or an abyss?
Because, there is no wind here ...
How does one breathe?
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