Paper Fissures

[Verse 1]
Dust motes dance in stolen light, a silent, shadowed hum.
Each scribbled thought, a phantom hand, reaching out to numb.
Beneath the vaulted spine of knowledge, ages gently fray,
A faded ink-blot on the page, where old truths softly sway.

[Chorus]
Paper fissures, whispers grow, a conversation grim.
Across the years, these strangers know the secrets held within.

[Verse 2]
A grandmother's cursive, a forgotten spice's trace,
Questioning empire's bitter tang, in this quiet, liminal space.
Another's protest, etched in lead, a defiant, ancient plea,
Reflected in the window pane, a storm brewing for me.

[Chorus]
Paper fissures, whispers grow, a conversation grim.
Across the years, these strangers know the secrets held within.

[Bridge]
Scaffolding of thoughts, a fragile, weathered brick,
Eroding boundaries of time, a ghost-touch makes me sick.
Their silent judgments, a cracked keystone, holding fast,
A legacy of shadows, built to forever last.

[Outro]
Through pages worn, the mistral blows, a cold and hollow sound.
These voices from the quiet dust, still turning underground.