Ideologies and laws are fences of the boundless world
Ideologies and laws are fences of the boundless world,
Invisible enclosures that frame our souls within cold walls,
Paths drawn in the dust of time, silent steel labyrinths,
For our fragile lives, squeezed into norms and regulations.
Every metal fence is a boundary of unknown dreams,
A circle that limits our sky, preventing free flight,
Awakening us within constrained borders, like birds in tight cages,
Lost on predetermined paths, blinded by artificial lights.
In the shadow of these fences, our hearts beat like echoes,
Searching for freedom in the facets of the starry sky,
But the walls grow, like illusions rooting us in the abyss of days,
Of lives unfolding under a limited sky, an eternal waiting.
The magic of the world struggles against the steel bars, a light seeks fissures,
Thin slits through which our dreams escape, seeking infinity,
In secrecy, the souls rise towards the stars, in sacred dances,
Passing beyond the fences of the world, towards unseen vastness.
Through these metal paths, we wander like shadows of anguish,
But the magic of life, secret and silent, whispers sacred names in the night.
It’s an ancient song, urging the soul to see beyond boundaries,
To spread its wings and venture into the dream without laws or limits.
Laws are just waves on a perpetual ocean,
Fences, shadows that temporarily corset the paths of dreaming,
But within us, beneath the velvet of silence, the longing for freedom smolders,
Each dream awakening from the slumber of binding ideologies.
The melancholy of the nocturnal sky, with its stars like fallen jewels,
Reminds us of the infinite silences within, of the unspoken magic.
And in these warm nights, in the shadow of invisible walls,
We find the secret gate to the unbounded, where dreams become reality.
We just need to close our eyes and see beyond the fences,
To feel the magic of the world, the quiet murmur of untreasured life,
For beyond every metal fence, every rigid realm,
The sacred freedom of dreams awaits us, the place where we are whole.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
|