In the twilight of my consciousness, where shadows weave secrets into the fabric of the wind

In the twilight of my consciousness, where shadows weave secrets into the fabric of the wind, I contemplate the whispers of time, its sweet deception that it heals all wounds. For time heals not; it is but a lie, It merely buries the pain, covering it with earth, rubble, and stains. A fragile veil of cover, Ignorant of eternity. One strong gust of wind, And the gaping wound is revealed. Time heals not; you do. And if you do not, the pain, Nestling comfortably in its makeshift grave, Will one day claw its way out like an escaping slave, Greedy for the first breath of freedom. And the darkness will consume you from within, Painting the grasses and clouds of your mind in crimson hues. In this mystical landscape of thoughts, I see pain as a slumbering beast, Buried beneath layers of time, never truly gone, A monster awaiting the opportune moment to surface, To shatter the chains of forgetfulness and feast upon our memories. For time is not a healer, but a negligent gardener, Planting weeds of sorrow beneath a thin layer of earth. When the wind blows, when memories awaken, Old wounds reopen, bleeding with the intensity of their first infliction, And I realize that healing does not come from the passage of hours, but from the strength of the soul, From our power to confront the shadows and transform them into light. For in the end, we are the true healers, Not time, not silence, not forgetfulness. In this melancholic reverie, I gaze into the depths of my soul, Seeking the strength to heal, to bury pain not in the earth, but in the light, Transforming suffering into understanding, scars into stories of courage. And thus, I continue to navigate this ocean of time, Learning to heal from within, to let the light dispel the darkness, For only when we face our demons, Can we find true freedom, true peace. Time heals not; you do. And if you do not, the pain will linger, waiting for its moment to break free, And the darkness will devour all you've built, leaving behind only shadows and silence. But in this journey of consciousness, I learn to be my own healer, To turn wounds into wings, pain into wisdom, And thus, I find peace amidst the storm, light in the heart of darkness.