Echoes of Imagined Truths

I wander through corridors woven of speech,

walls built from syllables just out of reach,

letters like lanterns that flicker and fade,

guiding me deeper in shadows they’ve made.

Every phrase whispers,

this must be true,

yet vanishes quickly when I stumble through.

Meanings collapse like sand in my hand,

grains of illusion I cannot command.

The sentences shimmer,

they twist and they bend,

promising answers that never quite end.

I chase after echoes,

believing their song,

but find in their music I never belong.

The words dress as anchors,

yet drift like the sea,

they hold me,

then lose me,

they will not set me free.

Their castles are fragile,

their doors never real,

yet still I step in them,

compelled to kneel.

Lost in a language that lies as it breathes,

I wear its false garments,

its intricate wreaths.

But when silence arrives,

I finally see

the only true word is the quiet in me.