In the mystical mists of twilight, leaning on an ancient railing

In the mystical mists of twilight, leaning on an ancient railing, I gaze deeply into the water to see my reflection gently rippling, And the little fish weaving their paths Through the blurred contours of my shadowed essence. I wonder if these ethereal beings feed On my floating thoughts, lightly nibbling At the strands loosely interwoven Into the very fabric of my existence, Embarking on an effortless journey To the deep, dark recesses Of the shadows I cast upon the world around me. I almost perceive Their delicate fins brushing against the secret chambers Of my mind, mapping the labyrinth of fears, Gracefully winding Through the tangled webs Of doubt and wavering indecision. Descending even further, Their fervor seems to grow with discovery, Bringing to light hidden treasures that feed On enigmas cloaked Even from my own consciousness, Diving beyond the shimmering surface Of my self-reflection. They plunge into the hallowed temples Of my thoughts, where shadows intertwine With forgotten dreams and Partially outlined longings, suspended in partial fruition, Navigating through the ethereal liquid currents Of the deepest sanctuaries of my soul, Unseen guardians of mysteries Perceptible only to their silent and adept presence. In these sacred, submerged gardens, My inner world unfolds as a complex tapestry Of lost hopes and budding marvels, Where the little fish, in their silent pilgrimage, Unravel the hidden strands of my heart’s pains and joys, Unveiling sanctuaries and Echoes of a consciousness Intertwined with the dance of creation and despair. In the tranquil depths of these ethereal waters, Where my essence fluctuates between reflection and obscurity, The fish illuminate the dark shadows of my spirit, Revealing the intricate ballet Of melancholy and wonder That flows silently beneath the surface, An endless, haunting stream, interwoven with magic and mystery.