Under the sky that weaves its shadows on the land of forgotten dreams
Under the sky that weaves its shadows on the land of forgotten dreams,
I wonder, what is life? A question that rolls through the streets,
Slipping into silent rooms, seeking answers in lost eyes,
Like stars in the darkness of night, reflecting in deep lakes.
And wisdom, like a comet piercing the abyss, whispers to me,
Those who feel lost, who awaken without a thread of meaning,
Are the ones who most often lay their questions on the pages of dawns,
Like an artist painting their life with shades of gold and silver.
And life, like a river seeking its ocean, becomes a heavy stone,
When it lacks a drawn path, a clear direction, a clear dream,
It echoes like an old song in an empty hall, pleading for meaning,
Like a lost echo in the labyrinth of an unexplored cave, silent.
But life is not meant to pass us by like a shadow on the walls of time,
It is meant to be lived, to be sculpted by our loving fingers,
To be filled with dreams that rise like kites in the wind of change,
By the desire to become more than just a fleeting moment, an eternity.
Do not wait for answers to fall from the heavens like summer rain,
Rise up, make your meaning from the clay of passing moments, blooming,
Create your own reason like an artist painting their life,
For life, in its essence, belongs to those who dare to give it meaning.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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