In the desert of silence, where thoughts are born from extinguished sands

In the desert of silence, where thoughts are born from extinguished sands, A creature without garments, with eyes burning like fallen stars, Holds its pulsating heart in dry hands, like a poisoned gift, And bites into it, eagerly, like a forbidden fruit of knowledge. I ask it: "Is it sweet, friend, the taste of your cosmic blood?" "Bitterness calls me," it replies, with a voice of a lost echo, "But I feed on it, for bitterness is my hidden secret, And because it is mine, just as the universe hides its stars in the night." Under the vast sky, its soul is a river flowing among constellations, And in the desert's silence, its whispers entwine with the wind, Like a choir of spirits singing the longing for forgotten infinity, Seeking meaning between chaos and life's ungrasped order. Between us, the chasm is just a dream of separation, an ephemeral dance, In which we seek the light that pierces the darkness of being, And in the heart's bitterness, we find solace for eternal longing, Like an ancient incantation, binding us to fallen stars. We embrace solitude, like a jewel of shadow and light, In which all the untold stories of time shine, And in this mystery, we find ourselves again, fragments of the eternal, Reflecting in the mirror of the universe, where all is one and the same. We dance on the edge of the abyss, holding hands with shadows, Seeking answers in the silence between heartbeats, And in each verse that flows, like an underground river of thoughts, We lose and find ourselves, in the cosmic melancholy of eternity.