Free Verse
The Illusion Filter
There is an art to watching a performance when you already know how the machinery works behind the curtain. For a long time, the predictable cycles of hot and cold, the calculated distance, and the shallow drops of attention felt like an intricate riddle that required a massive amount of hidden energy to decode. It is easy to get caught up in the slipstream of a ghost, trying to find a pattern or a hidden meaning in the spaces where a real presence is supposed to be. But the fog eventually clears, and what looked like a complex mystery reveals itself as nothing more than a fragile defense mechanism running on a loop.
By Syl De'Vil13 days ago in Poets
The Architecture of the Echo
For two decades, names have been kept quiet in the corners of my mind. There are phantoms from the deep past, markers of a distant time before the world got heavy, before the beautiful noise of a full house, and before the endless roads that never seem to arrive anywhere. Then there are the steady anchors of the present, the ones who stand just close enough to offer wisdom but remain entirely outside the physical perimeter of the flame. When you carry that much history, you naturally build a complex architecture around people in the dark. You wonder which path leads to an absolute ending and which one is just another horizon designed to keep you guessing.
By Syl De'Vil13 days ago in Poets
