We were born in the hush
between sound and scream,
while they mistook the awaking for a dream.
They built their world from louder lies,
we read the truth in falling skies.
And they never saw how even dust can sing,
or how silence grows with broken wings.
The skies spoke in symbols, soft and wild,
maybe a bit too strange for their “perfect” style.
So we don’t belong,
we just drift through the flame,
not made for their world,
not meant for their name.
6d ago
May 30, 2026 at 12:23 PM UTC
We were born in the hush
between sound and scream,
while they mistook the awaking for a dream.
They built their world from louder lies,
we read the truth in falling skies.
And they never saw how even dust can sing,
or how silence grows with broken wings.
The skies spoke in symbols, soft and wild,
maybe a bit too strange for their “perfect” style.
So we don’t belong,
we just drift through the flame,
not made for their world,
not meant for their name.
