I was born to love people, to be a traveler through their hidden hearts
I was born to love people, to be a traveler through their hidden hearts,
To discover the inner gardens, where the flowers of triumphs rise from the soil of sufferings.
Every smile evaluates me with a luminous chasm of hope,
Trying to reach the essence of their being, through each rain of buried memories.
To not be the one loved, but just the mirror that reflects their light,
Perceived as an echo in the silence of autumn leaves, writing poems in cold winds.
I was born to be the poet of shadows and scattered lights,
The one who catches the sparks in their eyes and hides them in intricate metaphors,
To touch the invisible strings of souls, weaving threads of a burdened destiny.
To break down their walls, with a delicate touch, sowing trust in barren places,
Without being seen, without being felt, but as a passing breeze,
Like the wind that leaves the harbor before dawn, leaving only calm silence behind.
I was meant to be part of the waves, not the one that lifts them toward the sky,
To float among ordinary people, an obscure presence under shifting shadows,
An entity among souls, not spreading storms of emotion, but only the echo of bygone times.
A pool of indistinct feelings, a lake of experiences lived in silence.
Somewhere, my gaze wanders to seek the depths,
But it hits the strict shores of harsh reality,
Perhaps being part of the wave was not just the people around,
But something profoundly missing within me, a void becoming ever vaster.
And so, in this journey infused with mysticism and lost hopes,
I weave every thought with threads of melancholy and magic,
Lost in the labyrinth of souls, weaving a secret and poetic universe,
In the heart of the waves, where my heart pulses under the enigmatic light of the moon,
I find the delicate thread of hope and follow it into a perpetual rebirth,
Toward an infinity where the heart intertwines with eternity.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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