In the tapestry of twilight's hue,
Where shadows dance and trip over their shoe,
Figures sway in veils of mist,
Their essence shrouded, and slightly pissed.
Amidst the whispers of the breeze,
Echoes of names, and stifled sneeze,
Faces blurred, identities fade,
"Who am I?" they ask, slightly afraid.
Silhouettes weave in silent song,
Their melodies faint, rhythmically wrong,
Boundless forms in endless flight,
Bumping into trees throughout the night.
Eyes obscured by veils of fate,
Squint at the abyss, then check their date,
Hands reach out, seeking connection,
Finding only air, much to their dejection.
In the realm where time suspends,
Identity bends, sanity transcends,
In the twilight's embrace, we find release,
And wonder why we're dressed like geese.
Mysterious figures in the gloaming light,
Tripping over roots with all their might,
Lost in the fog of existential thought,
Forgetting the flashlights that they bought.
In this twilight zone of confusion grand,
Where logic takes a backseat to the bland,
We ponder life's great mysteries profound,
While walking in circles on the same patch of ground.
So next time you're out as the day grows dim,
And see shadowy figures, out on a limb,
Remember they're not ghosts or spectral host,
Just folks who forgot which way is the coast!
YOU ARE READING
Dimensional Doodles
PoesíaThis collection is a tapestry woven from the threads of cosmic wonder and digital intrigue, each poem a distinct journey through realms where intellect and imagination collide. Dive into a universe where quantum whispers mingle with the syntax of th...
