La Huella

I woke inside a silence too perfect to be real. My name felt like a costume, my hands, someone else’s deal. The mirror held a stranger, with eyes too tired to lie. And every word I once believed just floated there to die. I traced the things I worshipped the gold, the praise, the flame. But all that ever held me never once knew my name. I danced in empty rhythms, I smiled for hollow cheers. Now shadows wrap around me, and echo all my fears. But then --a breath. A flicker. A pulse I used to know. Beneath the dust and systems, a rhythm starts to grow. It isn’t grand or spoken, no marching voice or band. Just heartbeats in the silence, just trembling in my hand. It pulls me through the stillness, through everything I lost A dance too deep for memory, a truth that bears no cost. Now every doubt is drifting, like ash into the sea. I follow where it leads me the rhythm inside me. Cuando ya no hay nadie… cuando no queda nada… el ritmo aún respira. When no one’s left… when nothing remains… the rhythm still breathes.