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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required In the deep mystery of the night, when the nocturnal light becomes a taciturn witness, I feel that our nature pushes us to swing between extremes, The stronger the inner fire, the greater the leap. Perhaps it is so human to do this, as we are created to move and change. Because, as far as I know, stagnation means death. And thus, we move a bit frenetically, a bit madly, in search of something elusive, That lures us to the horizon... In the flow of consciousness, I lose myself between waves of fire and shadows, Where my heart becomes a cathedral of intense burnings, And the soul, a ship that sails between the stars of change and the serene abyss. Each step in search of an evanescent unknown, Each leap, a quest for a chimera that dances at the edge of my sight. Movement is life, and stagnation, a slow and sad death, The need to burn in the fire of desire and to fly with the wings of aspirational madness, A frenzied dance, a ballet of madness and dreams. As I rush towards something undefined, my heart beats in unison with the universe, A symphony of restlessness and hope. Every person has their own journey, their own balance of fire and silence, Some become completely mad before reaching the desired horizon, Others never venture far, remaining prisoners in the comfort of stagnation. But even those who go nowhere, Still travel through their own inner chasms and heights, An odyssey of the spirit, an exploration of the inner self. Madness drives us to run towards infinity, to seek without knowing what we seek, Just feeling the call of a falling star, an unfulfilled dream, In the balance between reason and madness, we discover the essence of our humanity, A living paradox, a mystery that defines us. In the flow of my thoughts, I plunge into rivers of astral fire, Confusion and clarity intertwine, like day and night, A continuous dance of opposites that propels me forward, In search of that something that lures me to the horizon, A distant mirage, a beacon of endless dreams. Every lived moment is a struggle between stagnation and desire, An endless war between calm and storm, Where only movement, whether frenzied or subtle, keeps us alive, Each leap, a renewal of the soul, an attempt to reach the stars. Perhaps the true magic lies in our eternal pendulation, In accepting that sometimes the clearest light is found in madness, That only through continuous movement, even in confusion, do we find our true path, A dance of inner fire and alluring shadow, An endless quest, in this universe of infinite possibilities. And thus, in the silence of the night, when my thoughts navigate among the stars, I embrace this human frenzy, this sacred madness, Letting myself be lured by the eternally distant horizon, In search of a melancholic magic, an ancestral dream, A dance between life and dream, between light and darkness, In the eternal living of the soul's movement.
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