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Poem

In the nights when sleep hides among shadows and broken dreams,
The night wind becomes a caress of cold stars on my skin,
It penetrates deep into my lungs, like a crystal serpent of silence,
And I wonder, with longing that sings silence in echoes of lost time,
When was the last time I felt the thrill of undefined beauty,
That melts like a dream in the morning light, a whisper at dawn?
On those days, I close the window, the temple of cold freezes my bones,
Wraps my soul in a mantle of shivers, a sanctuary of ice.
And I wonder, with pain like a silent cry in the night’s stillness,
How long will this sensation last, nesting in the marrow of dreams,
A solitary bird in a nest of shadows, a mysterious burden,
It’s a melancholy flowing through the veins of time, a river of silver.
It winds through the cliffs of my soul, carried by waves,
A traveler on a sea of stars and shadows, in search of solace,
That spreads with the dawn, when light embraces the world,
And silence pours over us, like a forgotten song.

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