Some never awaken
Some never awaken.
In the endless stream of my consciousness, amidst shadows that open like flowers
In the diffuse light of our drowsy existence,
I also hibernate, a traveler wandering through the crystal labyrinth of time.
Restlessness envelops me like a dark wave,
Each minute slipping into the abyss of monotony.
I no longer feel joy, only faint echoes flickering
In the deep darkness, like the lost whispers of frozen dreams.
Life flows past me, a river of translucent shadows,
Work, roads, familiar faces,
Shadows of a withered existence, wax dolls
Dancing a silent ball in the stearic moonlight.
But then, like a golden spark in the void,
A word, a verse, a melody,
Pierces the thick veil of my hibernation,
A shock treatment that stirs my frozen soul.
I wake up, startle as if I had seen
A falling star in an endless sky.
Blood flows in my veins again,
The warmth of life envelopes me, the scent of pleasure
Blooms on my lips like a forgotten smile.
Through open eyes, I watch these shadows
Carve their paths on darkened trails.
Some will never awaken,
But I have been blessed with the gift
Of feeling my being reborn.
Now I live every moment, every pulse
As a dance of the spirit on the edge of eternity.
Maybe one day, I too will become a shadow again,
But until then, I run through life,
Able to feel, to love, to burn.
Some never awaken,
But I have awakened,
And life flows within me,
A pure flame that defies the darkness.
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