In the quiet dawn of yearning's endless stretch,
Where shadows dance on dreams' ephemeral edge,
A whisper stirs the soul's uncharted depth,
Unfolding paths that grace alone has wept.
No gilded prize nor fame's elusive snare,
Can mend the ache of longing's tender flare.
We seek, yet know not what our hearts desire,
A phantom wish, an ever-smoldering fire.
Beneath the stars, the silent questions weave,
A tapestry of doubt that none perceive.
In wandering steps through fields of veiled intent,
We trace the echoes of a world half-sent.
Each fleeting joy, a moment's borrowed light,
Leaves in its wake the hollow of the night.
Yet in this void, a seed of truth may grow,
From unseen roots, the tender shoots will show.
The hopeless dream of Being, stark and clear,
Not seeming, but in every moment near.
The gulf between what’s shown and what’s alone,
The vertigo of masks we’ve never known.
To be exposed, seen through, perhaps wiped out,
Each gesture a lie, each smile laced with doubt.
Suicide? No, too vulgar and too plain,
But silence, stillness, a refuge from pain.
Refuse to move, to speak, so lies won’t start,
Shut in, with no more roles to play a part.
Yet reality, diabolical and sly,
Trickles in, forcing truth to defy.
No one asks if it's genuine or sham,
Such concerns fade, even in theatre’s clam.
Understand the silence, the still, the pause,
Admire the apathy that gives you cause.
Go on with this part until it’s played out,
Until it loses interest and doubt.
Then leave it, just as others left behind,
In seeking what we cannot name or find.
For grace is not a thing that can be grasped,
But found in letting go of what we've clasped.
It guides us through the corridors of might,
To places where the soul can find its sight.
The journey's end is not a place defined,
But peace that blooms within a restless mind.
In seeking what we cannot name or see,
We find the grace of simply being free.
pixelskylines
yousharknotpass
areudirty
kaledo-art
ellievsbear
vaporwave
germansingergirl
annaxmalina
stormborns
