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Through the folds of silence, deep into the serene night,
I wait in the melancholic shadow of my thoughts,
For the rhapsody to wrap me in its delicate wings,
To lead me into mysterious, starry worlds.
If I write on the pages of dreams with ink of the moon,
Long verses stretch like wide rivers,
Lost through landscapes beaten by wind and deep,
Facing the temptations hidden in the shadows of the dark night.
Through the moist and silent forests, where shadows collide,
I utter elongated words, searching for meaning,
To unveil the hidden mysteries of my soul,
To find truths between flames and saltwater.
With gazes lost in the gold of nostalgia and yearning,
I float in the veils of memories carried by swelling winds,
In search of answers drowned in pained rains,
In search of healing caress, a celestial redemption.
Through the labyrinths of my mind, the metaphors dance,
On harp strings, to the heart, words sing, ascending,
With turbulent verses, pierced by stellar light,
I surpass the boundaries of time and the cry of a deep pain.
Thus the melancholic mystic opens its gates within me,
Inspired by the sighs of the earth and the whispers of the stars,
I let thoughts fly and intertwine,
To capture the essence and beauty of the unseen and barely touched.
So, with verses outstretched and mysterious,
I try to touch the sky and wrap the world in my enchantment,
Through songs of sadness and melancholy,
To lose myself in the eternity of a fleeting and profound dream.

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