To awaken means to realize one’s own nothingness, that is, to realize one’s
To awaken means to realize one’s own nothingness, that is, to realize one’s complete and absolute helplessness. As long as a man is not horrified at himself, he knows nothing about himself.
Through the labyrinth of my mind, where the shadows of thoughts whisper their secrets,
I float on the waves of melancholy, in a vast ocean of powerlessness and oblivion.
Each step, a reverberation of my own confinements, each breath, an echo of the metaphysical machine
That lives its life in a network of invisible gears, unrealized until true awakening.
In my depths, I realize that I am a complex mechanism, a clock planted in the seas of time,
Every emotion, a gear of inner materials, every thought, a cog that spins endlessly.
Always caught in layers upon layers of illusions, dancing on invisible puppet strings,
Not knowing my true essence until I collapse into the abyss of my own humanity.
There, in the inner darkness, the true nature of the soul is revealed,
A sky covered with heavy clouds of helplessness, where every lightning bolt is a painful revelation,
Each raindrop, a tear fallen from the heavens of consciousness, rolling on the temples of time.
Then I realize the boundlessness of my own mechanistic nature, I am a clock lost in the valleys of eternity,
A puppeteer without strings, an actor lost in his own role, unable to leave the stage.
The clocks of time measure the seconds like drops of sand in the hourglass of life,
Eternal spirals of disappointment and hope, lost among the mechanical beats of my heart.
Without the horror of oneself, I remain knotted in a fragile illusion, not knowing the limits of my own existence,
But when that horror pierces me, the light of truth shines in the deep shadows of my mind.
I am a child of darkness and light, caught in the cosmic dance of duality,
Every moment of awakening is a glimpse through a secret lens, where my true form is revealed.
In the oceans of melancholy, I dance with the specters of my own imperfection,
Every bleeding of consciousness, every desire for transcendence, brings me closer to the truth.
To awaken means to face the fevers of existence, to see the naked truth under the mantle of stars,
Every step lost in the haze of dreams, every mechanical desire, every unspoken tear,
All become part of the cosmic symphony of my soul, where the magician and the machine merge,
Learning to accept that helplessness is the foundation of true knowledge,
Following the shadow of my own thoughts, I discover that in every scar lies the power to be reborn.
On the road between dreams and reality, I rise and fall like a phoenix,
Every flame of consciousness burns my wings, but from the ashes, my soul is reborn.
When I look at my own nothingness, the brilliance of infinity reflects in my tears,
And in that revelation, I escape the chains of mechanistic nature, stepping into the unknown magic of my own existence.
Thus, in every night of melancholy and magic, among the shadows of my own illusions,
I learn to look at myself in the mirror of infinity, horrified and yet purified,
Understanding that awakening is just the beginning of an eternal dance between shadow and soul,
A dance of self-realization in a never-ending cosmic symphony, where I find and lose myself,
Everything I am, crying for help in the dream, hoping to find the truth in the eternal light of my consciousness.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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