In the abyss of a heavy silence, I feel like an anchor weighing down dreams

In the abyss of a heavy silence, I feel like an anchor weighing down dreams, And the world seems an atlas that no longer knows how to bend me towards heights. I call tenderly for shadows that can permeate me, a sublime rebirth, To pour into me a new life, transfigured, with meanings finely woven in time's girth. I create connections, carving in dawn and twilight, gems of colored light, A string of pearls gracefully fallen from the necklace of eternity; My words are archipelagos isolating the heart, without shackling it tight, And it's a love that deeply refuses any dusk, calling for endless unity. That smile stretching arches of stars across my darkened night, Every unseen promise that soaks my desire to drink from the day's blue might. A murmur, a chant, a hush of an echo to revitalize me When the world crumbles, and my smile is lonesome, a shield for tranquility. Her laughter, a choir of light flickering in the night of my troubled soul, A gentle caress I encounter unbeknownst, a blessing in disguise, whole. That voice, a balm emanating from the core of silence, the breeze that softly strokes, In this somber setting that surrounds me, as the world distills its venomous pokes. Seeking that embrace, an inner sun that never sets, Even when it's absent from my outstretched palm, scorching my retinas. A whisper rearranging the pieces of my inner universe, A peace rediscovered, a hesitant step on the path to a potential Eden diverse. And still I run, choosing to flee from the peace after which my soul roamed, Refusing the smooth bed where angels lay me down, but my blood is not homed. When love is welfare and illusion, it’s not left for fate to disperse, And what is true doesn't subtract from my essence, if it’s destined to immerse. A sign, a line on palms, or an accidental fate betwixt unanswered queries? How can a fragment of the unknown become the center of existence in a world of flurries? I hope only it does not fade, does not become a phantom whisked by the evening breeze stealth, Sometimes it's a grace to know, other times, the cosmos decides to slide into the heart of loss's wealth.