The candle flame flickers weakly, its dim, frail light struggling to illuminate the dark. Its tears of wax drip down, casting shadows of forgotten memories that haunt the edges of my mind. I stand there, waiting, from dusk until dawn, longing for a mere glimpse of your radiant face. It feels like a limitless fable of grief and sadness, living within this dead, stone-like statue of myself.
Adorn my silence with your enchanting smile, a smile that once filled the air with warmth and life. Burn the aura of hell that flickers in your eyes, and extinguish the stormy winds that rage beneath your feet. Blow life into my veins again! This stillness, this pain—it’s all consuming.
But these virtual images, these false reflections, they haunt me relentlessly. They slay me, yet I am not dead, not truly. Come, elude me from these malignant thoughts that tear at the edges of my soul. Captivate my spirit, my poetry, my dreams, and set me free. My injured soul pleads in the silence of this madness, a spell that maddens me both day and night. I remain trapped, longing for release from the invisible chains that bind me in this eternal melancholy.