My gaze is deep in myself, like a leaf floating on the river of time. Thoughts fall on top of each other like gentle clouds in the sky hugging the moon. The world around you is frozen, only the breathing of flowers reminds you that life goes on.
There is a quiet sadness in these dreams, but also a strange beauty. It's a feeling when the past touches the soul, leaving a warm, albeit slightly bitter imprint. I paint pictures in my mind that cannot be returned, and I hope that in their silence I will find answers.
The wind plays with the leaves as if it wants to say something important. But I'm not listening. I am just here, alone with myself, with thoughts circling like birds in the autumn sky.
It's not sadness, but rather a melody that reminds me that everything has its shadow, and even melancholy has light.
