On this gangrenous planet, where the sky bears the scars of time gone by
On this gangrenous planet, where the sky bears the scars of time gone by,
we should refrain from weaving plans from threads of illusions and hopes,
yet we continue to craft them with an optimism that pulses deep within our veins,
like a reflex of the dying seeking light in the final darkness of the day.
We cling to dreams like pale stars barely shining,
in a universe that hides its future under a veil of uncertainty and silence,
but even in the face of a world decomposing under the weight of its own mistakes,
we dare to hope, to plan, to weave stories from the ashes of the present.
Perhaps this optimism is merely a flickering flame in the cold wind of reality,
but within it, we find the strength to dream, to rise from the ruins of a shattered past,
and in every plan we make, in every hope we keep alive,
we discover fragments of light, echoes of a possibility for rebirth.
And so, on this ailing planet, where time counts its heartbeats,
we build our future from fragments of optimism, like alchemists of the dream,
seeking magic amidst despair and sunrises in the midst of perpetual night,
for even on the edge of the abyss, we remain seekers of miracles and lights.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
|