Silence

Silence


The Silence of the Self


In the depths of the breath, a whisper echoes,

where the heart seeks its silent light.


On the shore of the self, the footsteps fade away,

and the wave holds secrets that are not confessed.


A black veil of silence spreads between the convulsions,

and time ceases every sob in a hidden wound.


In the gaze of a hand, the inexpressible is written,

where the soul swirls in a peaceful darkness.


Silence spreads its wings in the room,

and the wall becomes a mirror of a voiceless voice.


On the empty table, a dry memory flows,

and the shadows speak of unspeakable loves.


My hand touches the cold glass,

and the drops of morning light dance silently.


A sound that never begins, gives birth to hope,

as my breath erases every silent wound.


In the inner bedroom, the soul guards shadows,

and the breaths open cracks in the darkness.


Every pause of a word gives birth to a universe,

where thoughts hover like wings seeking fire.


My gaze digs secretly into treacherous rocks,

and silences become stones on forgotten paths.


In the chest, the sob hides a key,

that unlocks the wilderness with a silent touch.


The night tightens silence around the shoulders,

and the wind whispers a sad prayer.


The moon digs bright lines into the heart,

where old wounds dance to the rhythm of pause.


At the window, a faint shadow stands still,

as if he had learned to read the meaning of silence.


The first light breaks through the night, softly,

and my silence confesses what words cannot contain.


In the wilderness of the self, I breathe slowly,

and memories fall like leaves in a silent forest.


The song doesn't escape from the lips,

but it beats like a heart behind closed doors.


My soul slips into dark fragments,

where light and darkness blend with chills.


In my palms, I hold a silent embrace,

like a shell that keeps fragments from the sea.


The gaze is lost in dark bellies,

where silence breathes with gentle steps.


Every pause of the body writes a fiery story,

where words are ashes in a still nightmare.


The blood dances silently in frozen vessels,

and pain spreads threads in the fabric of the soul.


On the lips, a word hovers, hesitates to be born,

like a morning that is silent before the world wakes up.


In the silence of the self, a song is born,

without notes, without rhythm, only with pulses.


Eyes close and hear the sound of truth,

that hides behind every cry.


The skin trembles in the wind of an unspeakable desire,

and silence becomes a bridge between two worlds.


In the breath, resides the secret of an era,

where time stands to worship the void.


A shell in the sand guards the voice of the deep,

and its silence screams with invisible waves.


On my wrist, pulses spring up like wings,

trying to touch the unexpressed trauma.


The saltiness becomes a tear that never flows,

but it digs deep cracks in the soil of the soul.


In the heart of the world, shadows hover,

soft as a whisper that is not yet born.


At my inner door, a key knocks,

but no one is waiting to open it.


The sound of silence fills every corner,

like heavy velvet covering old wounds.


My breath becomes a soundless sob,

and my eyes write words in the dark.


The past dances with an empty gaze,

and silence teaches the heart.


A drop of time falls into the lake of thought,

and the infinite gusts of silence erupt.


The echo of a love slowly fades,

but his silence remains a point in the flesh.


My hand touches an old nothing,

and desire counts the beats in frozen silence.


In your gaze, I find black pages unwritten,

where silence resides as a permanent guest.