Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

Follow your heart

Год написания книги
2024
Теги
<< 1 ... 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 ... 25 >>
На страницу:
13 из 25
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

“The road ahead is a metaphor for all we seek and fear. It stretches endlessly, both a promise and a challenge – a reflection of our inner journey.”

The road, the distant road,

How it beckons with its endless lines.

The wind whispers of places unknown,

Of shadows cast by ancient signs.

Lost in dreams, I tread this path,

Each step a question, each shadow a doubt.

The sea crashes, its waves dissolve,

Leaving foam where hope runs out.

I yearned for loss, for wisdom’s cost,

But now, what remains of me?

Perhaps only dust upon the breeze,

A fleeting ghost of what could be.

Where is the path, so pure, so bright,

That destiny promised in the stars?

Its horizon fades into the night,

Yet I still follow its endless scars.

The road, the distant road,

Its echoes haunt my restless heart.

The wind carries my soul away,

Yet I am bound to its eternal start.

In the road’s embrace, I find my truth —

Not in its end, but in its length.

For every shadow and every stone,

Grants me wisdom, grants me strength.

THE WHISPER OF LEAVES

“There was a strange stillness that day, as if the world whispered secrets meant only for the brave to hear. I listened to the leaves, and they carried my fears away.”

The whisper of leaves, fresh winds that cry —

Have we strayed too far beneath this sky?

Perhaps the shard’s edge has cut too deep,

Or the heart’s soft murmur is bound to weep.

A cup falls, shattering in shadowed halls,

A mouse scurries through the silken walls.

Summer has fled, its blossoms dry,

Night’s harsh voice cloaks the garden’s sigh.

Bread turns stale, preserved by mould;

Life lingers on, though not all hold.

A butterfly hides from the empty air,

While water whispers, clouds declare.

The wind moans low, the oak tree bends,

Rumours grow heavy, no voice defends.

Grief drowns grief in this solemn haze,

Cold hands falter, the heart obeys.

The phone rings sharply, a hollow tone,

Echoing glances, a mossy stone.

The tempter’s jest – a cruel disguise,

In paper traps and clever lies.

Coins bow heads; they make us kneel,

Prayers rise heavy, their weight too real.

War without war, hunger’s quiet refrain,
<< 1 ... 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 ... 25 >>
На страницу:
13 из 25

Другие электронные книги автора Marina Eugenie Di Cervini

Другие аудиокниги автора Marina Eugenie Di Cervini