Boy in the Abyss

A whisper falls through broken glass skies, Shadows bloom where his heartbeat lies. Echoes hum a cradle tune, In a room painted silver and blue. Drifting, drifting—he can’t recall, If the world was ever real at all. Stars dissolve beneath his skin, He’s the boy who dreams within. Light bends, faces fade, Names melt into the waves. He’s weightless, voiceless, And somehow—endlessly awake. Steps are soft, the ground’s not there, The air tastes sweet with silent prayer. He sees his hands like someone else’s eyes, Turning through the endless night. Falling, falling—he learns to fly, In the space between the truth and lie. Every wound becomes a star, Guiding him from who we are. Drifting, drifting—no return, Dreams ignite and quietly burn. He’s the boy the dark won’t miss, Sleeping deep in the abyss.