the sound of slience

hello, darkness, my old friend
i've come to talk with you again
because a vision softly creeping
left its seeds while i was sleeping
and the vision
that was planted in my brain
still remains
within the sound of silence

in restless dreams i walked alone
narrow streets of cobblestone
beneath the halo of a street lamp
i turned my collar to the cold and damp
when my eyes were stabbed
by the flash of a neon light
that split the night
and touched the sound of silence

and in the naked light i saw
ten thousand people, maybe more
people talking without speaking
people hearing without listening
people writing songs that voices never share...
and no one dare
disturb the sound of silence.

"fools," said i, "you do not know
silence like a cancer grows."
"hear my words that i might teach you,
take my arms that i might reach you."
but my words like silent raindrops fell,
and echoed in the wells of silence.

and the people bowed and prayed
to the neon god they made.
and the sign flashed out its warning
in the words that it was forming.
and the signs said: "the words of the prophets
are written on the subway walls
and tenement halls,
and whisper'd in the sound of silence."