![[Philosophy/25f60cce-674e-4f4a-81b2-af5958d4c1a2.mp3]] Tomorrow, at dusk, when the city dims its eyes, We will meet again in the theater of lies. Not as lovers, not as friends, But as players in this game that never ends. Each morning we paint our faces anew, Wearing masks we think are true. Dancing to rhythms we didn't choose, Playing parts we're scared to lose. You think you're free in your golden cage, Writing lines on your pristine page. But the ink that flows through your precious pen, Was chosen long before you could comprehend. Like clouds that drift in summer skies, We float on winds we can't describe. Thinking we're masters of our flight, While deeper currents rule the night. The game plays on, through joy and pain, Through sunlit peaks and shadows' reign. We're all just clouds in endless flight, Dreaming we control our plight. #poetry #philosophy #art