Silence, our witness

This cracked, restless earth beneath our feet—
granules of memory grinding,
pulling us down, step by step,
until the skin of the world splits open,
and we bleed into its soil—
not as strangers, but as something waiting.
When the bones turn brittle, and names fade like smoke,
maybe then we'll grasp
that this dirt was all we ever owned—
no other universe, no second chances.
But by then, silence will be the only witness,
and understanding will come as dust—
too late to hold,
too late to speak.

Nubisha Rabya Topote, a class 10 student at Viqarunnisa Noon School and College, is a budding poet who finds inspiration in every opportunity to write. Find more of her work 
@nubishawrites.