Claim the grace of solitude—
wear it like a quiet crown,
whisper to time,
and borrow its permission.
This vast noise of existence—
only a passing cloud.
Each planet sinks alone
into its private dusk,
held—
by the unseen hands of time.
The sea’s loud calling
is but the salt of loneliness;
its broken waves rise,
open-eyed, yet helpless—
and still,
the ocean walks alone
through time’s narrow path.
A river, blue and restless,
flows in silence—
splitting its own heart as it goes.
Night dresses in black,
yet stars never truly meet.
Dawn wakes—alone,
and before it leaves,
it sketches the day
like fading graffiti on the sky.
