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These wars teach us nothing, not even how to conquer our fears.
We are still cave people.
Democratic cave people, perhaps, but that brings little comfort.
Our struggle is to emerge from the cave.
If we made the slightest effort in that direction, we would inspire the whole world.
We are lost souls in stone labyrinths, shadows dancing on the cold walls of time,
Flames agonizing in the deep spring of a forgotten past,
Where the fire drips its tear of light over the contours of hope.
Our wars are just echoes of phantasms, futile battles against the shadows within our hearts,
We are cave people, but the label of  "democratic " does not alleviate our suffering.
We work under the mantle of contemplative stars, searching for the opening that will lead us beyond.
The night is an unwritten tapestry of fear and aspiration,
The stars are crystals scattered across the sky, silent witnesses to our history,
The whispers of the wind carry with them the songs of ancient wars, whispers of blood and lost hope.
Our souls are butterflies caught in a stone cocoon,
Dreaming of the moment when we will break the thread and rise into the infinite blue,
Where fear is just a souvenir and courage becomes our beacon.
I remember the nights when my conscience was a prisoner of obscure resonance,
Against my chest hoping that perhaps there is something beyond these ancient walls,
The light of the stars burns for us too, those who dream of the dawns of freedom.
We dream of breaking the invisible chains, rediscovering the ecstatic dawns,
Where fear is just an old relic buried in the ephemeral sands of time,
And courage a lit torch in the darkness that once enveloped us.
In rhythms of deep silence, when quiet is a vast ocean,
My thoughts sink into waves of old fears and memories,
The cracks in the cave walls become windows to the stars,
A dance of lights and shadows reflecting unfulfilled desires.
But I find solace in the desire to escape these limits imposed by fear,
To dream of celestial boundlessness and the freedom promised by other worlds.
In my veins, I feel the rebellious nature of a dream of freedom, an eternal fire that burns without rest,
With an intensity that defies the order imprinted on the stone walls,
Each of my thoughts an act of rebellion against banality, each heartbeat a cry for freedom,
Resonating beyond limited time, in the symphony of eternity.
Our struggle is to escape from the cave of the past, to become witnesses to our own ascent,
With the slightest effort toward the light, we would revolutionize the world.
In those sacred moments where the universe whispers its secrets,
I intertwine my thoughts with burning desires and songs from dawn,
Each star a luminous window in the silent night, each ray a beacon toward freedom,
Promising a future where our shadows dance in light, not in darkness,
Where dreams weave harmoniously their mystery with reality ennobled by courage.
And thus, I remain suspended between the essence of what we are and what we can become,
In an endless flow of consciousness trying to pierce the darkness,
Refusing to accept the finality of the shadow, fighting to conquer the luminous horizon,
Dancing in a magical symphony of hope, melancholy, and desire,
In a barely audible embrace of lights and shadows, an eternal struggle to inspire the world.
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