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The psyche was burned and left us numb, floating like a boat without oars
The psyche was burned and left us numb, floating like a boat without oars on an endless river,
the world was darker than the pitch-black of a closet full of hungry bats,
and the whiskey and wine seeped deep into our weary veins,
when the blood was too weak to carry the burden of our lost dreams,
we surrendered to a dance of shadows, a waltz of memories and forgetting,
on a horizon where the stars were extinguished by a dense cloud of silence,
we feel time slipping away like sand through our fingers, mercilessly,
in a world where hopes are just lost echoes in the night,
and our souls wander on untrodden paths, searching for a spark of light,
in a land of memories where once we dreamed of being immortal,
but now only shadows keep us company on this silent journey,
and wine and whiskey become our allies in the battle with forgetting and lost time.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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