In the labyrinth of time, where shadows spread their dark wings

In the labyrinth of time, where shadows spread their dark wings, My thoughts float like ripples on a silent river, gliding among lost dreams, The air breathes through the mist like ghosts, dancing on the edge of the abyss, Humanity, sleepwalking towards oblivion, between skyscrapers and shattered illusions. With eyes closed, hearts wrapped in logos and neon ephemera, You sing melancholy melodies on chords of clay, runes that cry out at sunset, The skies bend under the weight of irony, under the devastating healing of silence, Born in fields of gold, bound to the earth that breathes forgetfulness. Rivers of hope pour into an ocean of illusions, I feel the years pass, like pages of paper, yellowed and torn by the cold wind of consumption, A macabre dance under the light of advertisements, choirs of digital sirens, The sleep of reason gives birth to dreams of iron and concrete, while the heart weeps burdened. Among the ruins of dreams, among the great cathedrals of greed, Unfinished paintings remain, skeletons of ideas that were never reborn, I, you, we - prisoners in our own labyrinths of illusions, Wondering if awakening will ever find us. Your eyes, corners of unexplored universes, I breathe the whispers of time, buried under the dust of reality, A world dressed in brand cloaks, in cemeteries of dreams, And I wonder, always wonder, when we will begin to dream again – together.