In the depths of a world breathing beneath the vast and silent sky

In the depths of a world breathing beneath the vast and silent sky, Where shadows are memories of days that were never ours, Someone, an architect of dreams and fear, stretches their invisible fingers, Gently caressing the fragile threads of minds that believe they are free, Woven from illusions, we, mask-wearers, lost in this dance Of imposed thoughts, a silent waltz of an invisible government, Floating above us like a storm cloud that never dissipates, Led by the echoes of voices we have never heard, Yet that shape our dreams and fears, tastes and desires, Every evening, when shadows stretch across the sidewalks, We wonder if we are merely puppets in a theater without a curtain, And if we will ever feel that we truly are, More than silhouettes moving to the rhythm of an incomprehensible song, In a world where truth is a rare guest and silence Is the lullaby of sleeping souls, Awaiting the light to awaken us from the collective dream.