Tired of the echoes of emptiness that clash against encrypted voids in his wandering mind
Tired of the echoes of emptiness that clash against encrypted voids in his wandering mind,
He searched for an escape, a door, a window, or even a perforation in the fabric of nothingness,
His eyes sought the light that would scatter the darkness of the clouds covering his world,
A dying cloud, a rock he was, hardened and molten lava of silent volcanoes.
Stubborn and lifeless, his bound and restless eyes find no rest,
Heavy and toxic breath, trembling and sharp voice, aimless steps,
Bound to trodden paths, committing regretted mistakes in every sleepless night,
Forging trust from disguise, in obscure voids, his heart lies motionless.
Trapped in past and failed ignorance, he waits for time to isolate him from nightmares,
All is hopeless hope, with no escape, a false promise of deliverance,
In the dark void, his dreams unravel, seeking meaning in silent chaos,
Only a lost soul remains, a prisoner of shadow and forgotten illusions.
He waits for time to free him from the clutches of tormenting dreams,
But there is no door, no window, only echoes repeating endlessly,
In perfect silence, only memories find their way, like a pale light,
A universe of darkness where his heart remains captive, without hope.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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