The Blind and the Mute


I met a man who sees with both eyes
Nothing different but ordinary
His eyes drowned
Not even a fire could excite
He protest
He grumble
But then he's still blind
For he sees no truth
Life has beauty in its kind.

I met a man who speaks aloud
His voice booms like lightning of wild fire
He scream, he preaches
Dedicated as he seems.
Shouts only fascination
Delivers praises or perhaps fictions.
Heads turn
People believe, people acclaim
But then he remain silent.
Because he delivers no truth but forgery.

For those who can see, perceive!
For those who can talk, reprimand!
Because all of us are not mute and blind.

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