Children of the Silent God

Khurram Muraad Siddiquie

He chained the words, locked the tongues
After he spoke to the last prophet
He spoke everything that he had to
All the words that were to be uttered
were uttered; to him, the last man.
We are not men, we are cosmic orphans
No one speaks to us, not birds nor wind
We only have each other to speak to, you and I.
The deaf monsters of memory
weave languages from that last utterance,
Children of the silent God, come on chat.