Those concrete voices

Cemented colony separated distance
fine terrace blocked down view
hammered wood crafts laid souls
an empty space nothing that sounds
not even a single one visited
neither there are any smiles that flies
only emptiness prevails rounding there
and silence spread-ed to miles

The rashes of time slap buzzing
while division bell tolled a standstill point
hard ingrained swelling down
the utmost hurts of gust line
unclear beams perfect blinked
the twilight from the old lamp rays
the shadow of old trees
the stoppage of time
in those cemented graves

A illuminating eye awaits for re-existence
to re-smile in re-visit of some known faces
to re-transform from soil to soul
to be worth while
to re-magnify the focus
before it finally ends the visibility
to hear a recall of voice
to re-chanter with names again
to recollect strength to re-walk
follow the traces of time
buried inside is a dream
a hope that worth nothing
and a fallen voice is asleep
within those concrete slabs of cements and bricks