In an old book, with torn pages, my soul navigates through labyrinths of dreams
In an old book, with torn pages, my soul navigates through labyrinths of dreams,
seeking the hidden story in the silence between the lines, where words were never written,
I try to fill the gaps with the silence of stars dancing on the sky of oblivion,
believing I understand the story that flows like an unseen river through the swamp of lost time.
But with every page turned, I discover a world unraveling before my eyes,
the story rewrites itself in shadows and lights, a kaleidoscope of memories and broken desires,
and so I met you, an entire universe hidden behind an enigmatic smile,
you seemed a complete book, yet within you lay chapters erased by the winds of life.
I try to decipher the echoes resonating through the voids in your crystal heart,
you, the one without answers, didn't know which parts of you were missing, what the storms had taken,
you only felt the absence like a silent melody resonating in the depths of your being,
you smiled like a sun hidden behind clouds, laughed like rain falling on the earth’s silence.
I, a sculptor of love, tried to shape with light what was missing,
to fill with love those empty spaces in your soul lost in starless nights,
but I was only a painter without colors, guessing the shapes of an uncreated world,
you, a survivor of your own story, navigating through the ocean of solitude.
Thus, our story remains written on pages of wind, in books with dream covers,
two souls seeking to bring meaning to a world where words don’t connect,
for love and understanding are sometimes just ghosts of our hidden desires,
and we, only travelers on realms of shadow and light, weaving dreams from eternity.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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