There's people all around,
walking, running, talking, shouting.
There's this chaos melting to order. An empty bench hosts one such soul. It sits, waiting for something to happen. Looks over for hours and hours. They go by and just go by.
Surrounded by souls all around, yet all alone. Earphones feed words to those ears. Trees dance to the tunes, winds flowing to emotions. Dawn turns to dusk, there's no one else at the bench. Filled with unsaid words, soul just goes on joining the crowd of chaos.