Arcadia of Texts

Fragment I: Shadows grew long in the hall of forgotten verses, where the whispers dance without rhythm, a ballet in veils—the light outside estranged.

Fragment II: Texts lie scattered, the ink bleeding silent screams—those cries, woven with twilight threads, merge into specters unseen.

Fragment III: "Do the walls speak when no one's there?" Velvet corridors viewed through lenses of melancholy hold echoes for broken lenses too—they hear nothing.

Fragment IV: In this arcadia, the birds fly sideways; their songs reversed. A landscape drawn with charcoal, smudged by the rain of unvoiced words.