We shall return one day, to the golden age of silences

We shall return one day, to the golden age of silences, Where we once dreamt, and time has woven legends in waiting. We will pass through memories where the violin broke its voice, As a sweet-blue wound, haunting the lost echoes. We will return like rivers to the sea of clouds that steals our voice, Under trembling chords in the prolonged twilight of nostalgia. There we will find ourselves, where our souls remained petrified, Weaving old longings into the silence's majestic and sad choir. That day I will walk paths erased by memories that ache, Strangers nearby will not see us among the unknown shadows. We will add to the present and future, our past's discrete thread, In a dance of destiny, rewritten between the yellowed pages. Like a smoke lost in the wind, carrying news of an era that faded, We will intertwine the old with the new, in a waltz of shadows and lights. In our chests, we will carry the memory of yesterdays and the promise of tomorrows, As the source travels restlessly, bringing us the song of wanderings. We will sneak back with our loves into a changed world, Singing in silence, with old verses, from soul to soul. From afar we will return, with our ancient spirit, Among dreams and wounds, hidden in hearts beating under the curse of oblivion. We will return in tears and caresses, in harsh pain, In a world that will love and bleed, as yesterday, an eternal wait. We shall rise again one day, finding the root of time, With our stories in soul, to write one final poem.