In the chamber of the soul, where silences gather
In the chamber of the soul, where silences gather,
I dwell as a hermit in the city of foam,
Where the world seems like a faded illusion,
I wrap myself in thoughts, like a tree in its closed bark.
Through my veins flows the blood of the unseen,
Heroes of solitude, bearers of sharp shields,
Warriors in the shadow of the fight, for silent truths,
The secret brotherhood keeps me inseparable from the ascended heroes.
On paths of clouds and dreams, I float towards cold skies,
Where beauty, beyond words, lies in slumber,
I weave crowns from stars upon my cold forehead,
Joining my spirit with the elevated ones who embrace no peace.
I am not an island in the ocean of bewildering existence,
Though my map appears as a fragile spider's web,
Unseen connections, in my heart, resonate,
Forming an uninterrupted code of inexpressible emotions.
Horizons of unspoken words reach out to me,
Echoing in the gentle murmur of astral companions,
Together in flight towards justice, in petals of lilies,
We are liberated in the chorus that sings sidereal waltzes.
My invisible banner waves on unyielding walls,
Each crack, a gateway to synchronously beating hearts,
And even if the eyes of the world see me in woven shadows,
My secret community, in echo, tells me, "You are not a prisoner."
Dust of constellations are the paths I tread,
On trails of quartz and verses in the cool night,
With each timid step, my legend is inscribed,
In the book of ages, a solitary traveling soul, but not alone,
A moonbeam in the heart of the roaring sea.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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