In the depths of silence, thoughts flow like underground rivers
In the depths of silence, thoughts flow like underground rivers,
where the moonlight stops to rest its weary wings,
and time seems an illusion, a grain of sand lost in the hourglass of eternity,
here, in the heart of silence, the thoughtful man crafts his own universe.
There is no rest for the thinker, only endless journeys,
among the shadows of memories and unfulfilled dreams that smolder quietly,
in a silent dance, in the depths of the mind, where silence sings,
and each moment becomes a new beginning, an unwritten poem.
Those who watch from afar do not know that in stillness life pulses,
that in each breath lie entire worlds, unspoken and infinite,
and in the depths of apparent nothingness, constellations of thoughts ignite,
where the thoughtful man finds his greatest activity.
In the shadow of silence, where only the echo of thoughts can penetrate,
lie the secrets of the universe, understood only by those who know how to listen,
and in this dance of silence, the esoteric magic of creation is born,
for only silence can reveal what noise conceals.
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