Before, I didn’t want this silence
I struggled with an untamed aphasia
I thought if I no longer had voices,
hums, spinning chimes,
it would become nothingness,
the perfect cosmic vacuum.

Unfinished strands seeking new lands
trying to fill the jug
with the whispers of soul dust…
The fading echo defends itself
against absolute emptiness.

They keep talking,
they still try deforming a single atom
so as not to disappear.
But the polyphonic dimension of tones
is slowly dying down.
A breath of the universe's relief,
a pulsating consciousness rising
giving gentle, immense serenity.

They closed their thoughts.
Genuineness is unwelcome in this world.
Their purpose and cause remain hidden.
Smiling ironically with their sharp hearts,
they tied disappearing ethics with golden threads.

Now they invite you to the feast.
The milky blood of a thousand voices is served,
at the table's abundance of emptiness.

Who are they? Survivors,
shaped by silent consent,
walk through the vast field of lost values,
tainted with soulless conformism.
They are afraid, so afraid of their dark shadows…