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You, who hide behind cold walls built of silence and stone

You, who hide behind cold walls built of silence and stone,
You, who sit at desks like sentinels of unseen worlds,
I just want you to know that I see through your masks, through your porcelain smiles,
For my eyes penetrate the invisible cracks of your perfect appearances.
Behind closed doors and dusty windows, I feel your hearts beating,
Like muted drums carrying the rhythm of untold stories, hidden by time,
And in every silence, I hear your whispers, echoes of desires and fears,
The truth, like an underground river, flows tirelessly through the labyrinth of your lies.
Masks fall slowly, like leaves in the autumn wind, and only the truth remains,
In the pale morning light, when shadows melt and everything becomes clear and transparent,
I see you as you are, not as you wish to be, in the vulnerable simplicity of being,
And I understand that beyond walls and desks, we are all just souls seeking light.
So let the masks fall, let the walls dissolve into the sands of time,
For only when we are truly ourselves can we find peace,
In a world where truth no longer hides and every gaze is full of light,
We meet, without masks, in a dance of sincerity and rediscovered freedom.

Copyright © Dan Enache

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