Beneath the surface of the mind, dimness is a sanctuary
It cradles the ugliest truths, the ones we bury
Yet even in their concealment, they ferment
Quietly waiting for the moment of release.
The silence speaks with a voice so familiar
It resonates with the echoes of forgotten pasts
Each shadow a witness to the unraveling story
Written in the inks of solitude and regret.
In the end, as the pendulum swings
We are left with shadows that we can't outrun
Each step forward intertwines with the past
Until the line between light and darkness blurs.