Dream Glass

On black glass, a subtle whisper,
a soul paints distant lights,
shadows that dance beneath blind moon,
following the touch of a hidden desire.
In silence, faint traces of light,
are brushed by, are lost, are sought,
among the fragments of a silent heart,
that dreams of breaking free in the night.
The stars, timidly, settle one by one,
on cold surfaces, veiled in mystery,
and the wind listens in a deep whisper,
the secret story of a soul that paints itself.
Finally, the glass darkens, closes,
but the light remains within the heart revealed,
in a memory that never fades,
among the last shadows of an enchanted night.