In the depths of my wandering thoughts, I turn back to 1989

In the depths of my wandering thoughts, I turn back to 1989, A time of uninterrupted innocence, a veil of unknowing that covered my mind, Floating in a sea of uncertainty, where understanding was but an echo, For everything was meticulously crafted, down to the last detail, By those who took power and destroyed Romania completely. Forty years of life it took to lift the veil, for the truth to be revealed, To see the world as it is, a realm of deceit and half-told stories. Everything is a grand disinformation, a theater of lies, Nothing is as it seems, as it is shown or depicted. Mass manipulation, fragmentation, and division of nations, For power and wealth, the eternal ruthless pursuit. When will the Romanian people taste true freedom again? In the twilight of reflection, I think of these somber truths, The years of elaborate illusions, of a freedom that was never true. We were puppets in a staged revolution, marionettes in a grand play, Unknowing, unraveled by the hands that choreographed our dismay. Deep in the abysses of my soul, a melancholic magic stirs, A sense of lost potential, of deferred dreams and obscure hopes. Oh, the streets that once echoed with calls for freedom, Now silent, consumed by the heavy fog of manipulated history. We were told stories, tapestries of grand ideals were woven, Yet beneath the surface, a darkness conspired, veiled by the allure of power. Each promise a chain, each hope a hidden trap, And as the years passed, we danced, unaware. In the corridors of these memories, the ghosts of the past reside, Whispering truths discovered too late, of sovereignty denied. Forty years to awaken, to see through the veil of illusions, To recognize the players and the roles they played. The world, a stage of ceaseless deceit, where appearances deceive, The masses divided, the nations sundered, all for the success of a few. Power and wealth, the twin beasts that drive this age-old game, Manipulating dreams and desires, setting hearts aflame. Yet within this orchestrated chaos, a spark of defiance burns, A yearning for authentic freedom, for the day the tide turns. When will we break these old chains? When will our silent voices, our stories be truly told? In the labyrinth of my thoughts, I see a dawn yet unclaimed, A horizon where hope lingers, untamed. Beyond the reach of manipulation, a new path awaits, Where the essence of true freedom transcends the crafted fates. Oh, Romania, my heart aches for the day, When truth rises from the ashes, when shadows fade away. For within every Romanian soul, lies a spark of freedom, Waiting to ignite, to shine, to soar towards untarnished skies. Let us dream, let us strive, for the day we reclaim, The spirit of our ancestors, unbound by the chains of shame. Through the fog of disinformation, our hearts must remain pure, For the day of true liberation, for a future secure. And so, in this soulful journey, we seek the light, Through the shadows of deception, through the endless night. For we are more than pawns in a power-thirsty game, We are the spirit of Romania, the keepers of its flame.