In the temple of silence, where the past awaits to be rewritten

In the temple of silence, where the past awaits to be rewritten, I wrap my longing in the mantle of night, searching for the lost ring of destiny, That sacred symbol, forged in the shadow of agate forests, Its color, a gateway to the depths where green meets the night. I dared to part with it, to offer it as a gift to a pilgrim of fortune, But in the quiet of the drawer, it lost the echo of the hand that shaped it. With a heavy heart, I asked for it back, wore it as a talisman Close to my heart, yet foreign as a dream of the past, Untouched by the magic of vows under the starlit sky. Where does it rest now? Hidden in a crypt of memories Beneath the layers of days, in a place where no hand can touch it. I scour my small world, not to find it, but to free myself From the burden of longing, heavier than the chamber of oblivion where hopes melt away. This ring, a symbol of our devoted love, Became the relic of a pilgrimage of my soul, Seeking rest in a mystery deeper than endless seas. It calls me, not to find it, but to understand That love, like the ring, cannot be confined to a form, But is an eternal journey, a dance with the spirit of the wind. In this labyrinth of life, where memories intertwine with dreams, The lost ring is now a guiding star in the sky of my soul, An invitation to live beyond limits, to love beyond form, To find in every whisper of the wind, in every dancing leaf, The magic of love that transforms, that lifts the soul to unseen heights, Where each moment is a sacred altar of renewal, And where love, ceaselessly, weaves its eternal song, In a universe where everything is light, and everything is love.