Under twilight skies, veiled in melancholic shadows and silent steps
Under twilight skies, veiled in melancholic shadows and silent steps,
The silent tragedy of creative destinies unfolds,
For only from the sacred depths of each unique soul
Can new, mysterious meanings arise, infused with the force of fertile life.
Yet man, the last to believe in his right to sculpt
Unique significances, loses himself in the crowd, not seeking the secret of his flight.
Like a seagull that forgets its flight over the sea of sighs,
He uncritically accepts all that is offered by the vast and numb society,
And thus, instead of being free and open, man's meanings
Transform into rigid outlines of distorted desires,
Hardened in the molds of a standardized and dull social pattern.
Under the moonlight, with its magical rays drawing destinies on the earth,
Lies the heart of a secret tragedy, of a broken metamorphosis,
For man, in his immense desire for belonging, forgets his inner star,
Neglecting the creative force, not releasing dreams to uncontaminated realms.
The metaphors hidden under the veil of night, undulating in mystery,
Show the latent power, the beauty of desires born from the soul,
But man, in the snares of convention, does not spread his daring wings,
Refusing to grow, to illuminate a sky of new, sublime, and infinite meanings.
And yet, somewhere, in the deepest abyss of his heart,
The seed of transformation waits to sprout under the light of consciousness,
Maybe on a deep and magical night, man will understand
That only by opening himself, like a flower under the rain of stars,
Will he find the path to his essence, to those unique, unaltered meanings.
So, under the mantle of night, let us look deep into the dark mirror,
Reconcile with the mysteries and release the locked dreams,
For only when we begin to believe in our true light,
We will break the patterns, and our meanings will fly, free and divine,
In the eternal dance of creation, under skies full of magic and longing,
And we will find, in the sorrow of a melancholic night, our true destiny.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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