Under the mantle of night, full of hidden meanings
Under the mantle of night, full of hidden meanings,
Where stars dance their stories in silence,
There lies a world where vocations drown in shadows,
Children with grand dreams, trapped in dusty golden cages,
In the name of egalitarian humanism, they disperse in the cold wind.
Schools, temples of logic and unfeeling iron rules,
Bury geniuses under mantles of conformity and doubt,
Sacred callings, intoxicated by narrow ignorance,
Begin to perish, bound in invisible chains, under a dark sky,
In an orchestra of silences where the echoes of spirits fade.
Children, who once dreamed of universes untouched by time,
Learn to suffocate their wings of free thoughts,
Under the weight of the gray everyday and norms devoid of magic,
Their dreams merge with the dust in the old corners of rooms,
Where the light of the candle of knowledge struggles to guide.
Under the yoke of the official world, contemplative spirits groan,
Trapped in the web of formalities and mental closures,
Entire universes, swallowed by the blackness of daily monotony,
Wells of creativity dry up under the sorrow of indifference,
In a world that refuses to see the magic born from within.
Oppression begins in their fragile childhood,
When magnificent ideas turn into painful silences,
Geniuses wasted in vain, like dust on waves of unforgiving time,
In the name of equality, their freedom becomes a shadow,
A distant illusion, lived in a dance of shadows and extinguished dreams.
But in the deep darkness, hidden under layers of routine and forgetfulness,
There is a light that cannot be extinguished, only temporarily muffled,
In hearts filled with longing for transcendence and pure knowledge,
The song of silent revolt is born, magic revived from the ashes,
For the genius of truth, no matter how oppressed, always returns to the light.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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