Fragments Of An Uncharted Journey Poem by Alexander Romanov

We are the whispers from forgotten voids,
Drifting in the half-light where shadows conspire.
Phantoms shifting, vessels without forms,
Morphing in the mist, dissolving in desire.

Time slips—an unfathomed paradox,
We wander, unanchored, through barren plains.
Freedom, an illusion of endless walks,
Encircling the abyss where silence reigns.

Crimson stains upon the fabric of days,
Unraveling golden threads of distant stars.
Night reveals the tapestry's decay,
The cosmos weeps through ancient scars.

Souls linger near the thresholds unseen,
Bound to the silence of the buried dead.
Pierced by falling light, a fractured beam,
Reflected in the eyes of those who fled.

Alive in the interstices of thought,
We wade through rivers of elusive time.
Dissolving where reality is naught,
Becoming echoes lost in endless rhyme.

A procession of weary wings ascend,
Redefining constellations' lore.
Enormous birds whose journeys never end,
Still seeking paths to what we were before.