The Tower Of Whispers

The tower of whispers is my longed-for and, at the same time, rejected place. It is where I felt at home but also strange, where, at times, states of euphoria and joy were constrained by sadness and deep melancholy mixed with grief.

In the distance, I heard the chiming of faraway churches and the birds chirping around me. Yet I was trapped in this tower of desires and grudges, hopes and disappointments, expectations but also the deepest anguishes, and memories—a tower full of memories, sweet yet mournful.

I shuddered between amazement and dream, my anxieties, my fears were wrapped around me and almost forming bonds, invisible chains that held me still and at the same time in awe because of a situation of stability where joy and pain mixed into a single essence.

The echo of various voices thundered in my head, in this dark tower of whispers. It seemed that time had stopped when I realised I could no longer see my reflection in any mirror because I no longer had an image. I had lost my original features and had transformed into something undefined.

I had become a creature of a thousand personalities and moods, and I had fallen into a vortex of shadows and decay from which, no matter how much I tried to escape, I could not free myself. It was these shadows that seemed to reflect my thoughts and my anguish.

My heart did not know passion. My sleep was… disturbed by monstrous creatures… that… afflicted pains to my heart and body… every time… I clung… to a desire for joy and peace… and hope.

And so the rest of eternity unfolded before me as if I were a passive spectator with eyes without tears, but with a heart full of anguish, feelings, sadness, and regrets.
Lisa