The cold breeze blew past,

the narrow alley way.

All doors tight to the knot

All windows intact,

Not even the slightest ray of sunlight can pierce through the glass.

She walks alone,

in the ghostly silence of the street,

unware of her surrounding,

making her heat beat in fear.

A niggle of death pounds in her head as she paces stealthily through the muffed lane,

bearing the scars of the storm that have been bound together like shadow and body in a ghost town

Before her gaze,

The beds rattle,

rolling swiftly through the hallway,

clashing with piercing screams and echoes of wailing  children and women.

A sudden hush is followed by the silence of the heart beat,

A continous loop of a melancholic sound emitted by a machine on the wall ,

grabs the hearts of many.

No one can obiviate,

The cleansing storm of silence