Days pass in slow-moving shadows Ghosts dance on the stage of haste People chase an invisible prize What prize, after all?
A race of empty vanities Where foolishness gains a chorus Competing for the crown of futility Which one will shine next?
Fear of being forgotten Fear of being nothing Fear of not being an echo Of leaving no trace And at the same time Fear of being seen, too close, too clear
While they count their seconds I lose myself in deep abysses Voids that echo, resound In them, in me, in all of us
We are lost on the path to nowhere Our devotion to moments that evaporate Until the next urgency traps us Imprisoning us in the routine of fear
Fear of being forgotten Fear of being nothing Fear of not being an echo Of leaving no trace And at the same time Fear of being seen, too close, too clear
