In shadows deep where darkness swells,
The ancient thief of timeless wells.
With memories vast, he grasps each line,
Of histories lost in aeons' rhyme.
From epochs born in ancient breath,
He steals the art of life and death.
With sight that spans a trillion years,
He weaves through time with quiet seers.
A sculptor of the cosmic clay,
He molds the stars to his display.
A painter with celestial hue,
He steals the dawn and evening dew.
In whispers known to dawn and dust,
He plucks creations, dreams robust.
A poet's verse, a symphony's soar,
Stolen from futures, yet in store.
But cosmic laws demand their due,
As stolen futures subtly brew.
For what is taken, yet to bloom,
Unsettles balance, brings the gloom.
Within his mind, stolen halls unfold,
Visions of futures yet untold.
Yet in his theft, he cannot see,
The essence lost in time's decree.
For true creation's spark and fire,
Reside in moments of desire.
And though he spans eternity's span,
He cannot grasp what makes us man.
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Dimensional Doodles
ŞiirThis 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...
