In the garden where illusions grow like paper flowers under the velvet sky
In the garden where illusions grow like paper flowers under the velvet sky,
Life is woven like a tapestry of shadows and lights fading into the distance,
A sweet lie we embrace with open arms,
For the pure truth, like a cold wind, might scatter our dreams,
We paint our reality with the oils of dreams and unfulfilled hopes,
While our soul dances on the edge of an abyss of desires.
In the memory of a yesterday that caresses us with whispered nostalgia,
We build sandcastles on the shore of time, knowing the waves will come,
But we love the ephemeral, the beauty of moments unraveling in the wind of forgetfulness,
For in every illusion, we find a silent truth that warms our heart,
And in every lie, a spark of reality that keeps us anchored in dreams,
And in this duality, we find our steps on the path of life,
A trail of shooting stars that shine only in the night of consciousness.
Thus, in the cosmic silence of our thoughts, we let ourselves be carried,
On rivers of images and sensations that flow unceasingly,
For in this stream of the mind, we find a refuge, a sanctuary of light,
Where life, with all its lies, becomes a story we choose to live.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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