I sit down thinking
Many a times
What would happen
If my thoughts blank out,
Muscles refuse to work
And the pen refuses to write,

I would then write nothing,
No story, no article, no poem
The mobs will then write an epitaph
As for them, I'd be happily dead
Silenced for good, full and final
By the silent cacophony

They don't realise, however,
That if I speak, I shall
Surely open the Pandora's box
Revealing much for all to see
The grand plans of the guardians
Shaming even the greatest sinner

They know it well, for a fact
That I do not speak
Only to be hushed by many
Peacefully violent guardians
Conformity and I, 
Are sworn enemies

Silence , is not cowardice
It is the most powerful tool
Ensuring that the guardians
Pay heed to those agitated,
Those who've flatly refused
To follow them like a lamb.
©siddharth_khatri