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Poem

I have run barefoot more than the sun has ever existed.
I did not know what it meant to be steady, slow, and in control.
I wanted to never settle, to never rest.
I sought solace among the sighs and groans of the forest.
I sought peace in the arms of its bark.
The forest whispers, and I listen,
letting my steps become echoes among the dead leaves,
I sway among memories and shattered dreams,
transforming into a pearl of the past,
wrapped in the mystery of bygone times.
In the silence of the night, the stars are my confidantes,
telling me stories of when the earth was young,
and I ran upon it, carefree, timeless.
Each step was a heartbeat,
each breath a verse from a lost poem.
And yet, in that perpetual motion, I found a home,
a place to rest my weary soul.
But the bark of the trees calls me, pulls me from my reverie,
forcing me to confront my shadows,
to unveil the story of a woman who loved,
lost, and was reborn from her own ashes.
In those moments, I feel like a flame dancing in the wind,
always moving, always changing, yet never gone.
Under the moon, I find myself, reflecting on all the smiles and tears,
on every moment lived and forgotten.
The mirror of my soul captures both light and darkness,
transforming them into an endless story,
a ballad of a life lived on the edge,
between dream and reality, between past and present.
I run barefoot through eternity, seeking answers, finding only more questions.
And yet, in this endless search, I find beauty,
I find the magic of a melancholic existence, full of mystery and poetry,
an existence where each step is a new page,
each breath a new verse from an unwritten poem.

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