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Poem

In the abyss of gazes, where silence screams mute and deep,
The chasm stares back, a vortex gathering abstract emotions,
I offer it my fears, aspirations, and unspoken truths,
It swallows them all, leaving an unyielding void in my chest.
There exists a lexicon of despair, with sharp, cutting phonemes,
With discordant cadence, yet solace in graceful harmonies,
An elegy reminding me that I am both wound and witness,
Exiled and at home, in a universe that knows no harbor.
On the edge of the abyss, where light entwines with shadow,
I lose and find myself, a traveler wandering without aim,
In the stream of consciousness, I wonder who I am without it all,
An echo of unfulfilled dreams, a longing that does not struggle.
In the soliloquy of the abyss, where silence becomes the heart's language,
I find melancholic beauty, the poetry of falling and rising,
In the dance between void and fullness, eternal and profound,
I am both creator and creation, in the infinite that binds us all, round.

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