They are the silent ones,

The ones without voice’

The ones without power,

And the ones without sting.

 

Words cut like rapiers

And they have no shield;

Words thrust, but no one parries;

Words strike, but no one feints.

And there is no riposte.

 

Who is clever enough

To sharpen wit to fence back

And who is aggressive and vicious

To hurl back diatribes?

 

They suffer around us,

The silent victims;

They are the lambs

That go mute and soundless,

To slaughter.

Not a  single bleat escapes

Their closed lips.

They have no retaliation!

 

They are tender and mild;

They are soft, meek and humble;

They are the angels

Without flaming swords.

 

Patient as the earth,

They endure without malice

And without rebuke!

In mute bearing,

They are always there,

Unnoticed, in the wings.

They are always waiting

For ever at the beck and call-

Always down to the earth,

These heirs of  the earth!