In the howling wilderness, the path is lost beneath the fury of wild winds
In the howling wilderness, the path is lost beneath the fury of wild winds,
The compass loses its meaning under the vast and empty sky, without stars to guide us,
Our steps wander through the nameless realm, where echoes forget their words,
Alone we walk through the wilderness of the heart, seeking traces of vanished dreams.
The thorns of time pierce deep into the skin of days, the weight of stress bends our backs,
Silent trees stand as witnesses who never lie, guardians of crude truths,
Regret thickens like morning fog, hope grows thin as a spider's thread,
Yet we look ahead and keep trying, blind before our own searching.
The stars are wrapped in veils of forgetting, nights become riddles without answers,
Every question we utter transforms into thousands of other "whys",
The path is lost beneath winds that howl like wolves in the full moon,
We walk alone through the wilderness of the soul, carrying the burden of unspoken silence.
But in the deepest darkness, we confess that somewhere, in the depths, a flame refuses to die,
Like a firefly lost in eternal night, it flickers with the stubbornness of hope,
Even though life wounds us with its sharp claws, and dreams stray from their course,
Our spirit bends like reed in the wind, but does not break, remains steadfast in the storm.
And thus we continue, like wanderers of light in the endless wasteland,
The path is lost beneath the howling winds, but we move forward with open hearts,
Alone through the wilderness of existence, seeking within us the flame that won't be extinguished,
Carrying in our souls the faith that somewhere, beyond the darkness, light awaits us.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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