Perhaps I have descended so low, already sinking my nails into the bottom of the abyss
Perhaps I have descended so low, already sinking my nails into the bottom of the abyss,
While my fangs point towards the distant sky, bathed in moonlight,
Perhaps I have lied, hidden things and left them behind on the stars,
And perhaps I only told you what you wanted to hear, a story to lose yourself in.
But I know that this is better than lying to my own being,
To hide from the truths that haunt me in the silence of the night,
For in the lies told to others, I find a temporary refuge,
But the lies told to myself bury me even deeper.
There, in the depths where the moon cannot reach,
Remain the unspoken dreams, the unwritten words,
Like jewels hidden in the dark corners of the mind,
Waiting for the light of sincerity to reveal their shine.
Perhaps the path to truth is dark and full of thorns,
But it is purer than living in a world of illusions,
For between the silence of lies and the voice of truth,
I choose my fangs turned towards the sky, seeking unseen light.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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