Once, I longed for a perfect story,
Scenes unfolding in seamless clarity.
Painted with elegance, touched by magic
Like nobles on thrones, grand and cinematic.
As I wandered deeper through each page,
A quiet unease began to take the stage.
My vision blurred, wrapped in a creeping haze,
Colors drained into empty, lifeless grays.
It grew hard to breathe, I sank in despair,
Drowning in currents I couldn’t repair.
I ran, I walked, I crawled, then stopped,
Chasing a map that was never dropped.
Surrounded by doors waiting to be freed,
Yet I held no key, nor voice to plead.
Lost in the middle, a wandering stray,
On a flight that stretched with no end in play.
Ethereal paths I once ignored,
While racing down an endless corridor.
Was I chasing perfection’s illusion?
Or trapped in my own silent confusion?
Have I caged myself for dreams too high,
While the world outside passes me by?
Once, I longed for a perfect story
Now, it fades into fractured memory.
Though I pretend to reclaim my glory,
Reality’s waves still pull me back to its territory.
YOU ARE READING
Silence
Non-FictionIncludes poems, random thoughts, analysis and everything that's going on in my mind.... If you're interested about my whereabouts, you're free to visit.
