Now he takes me seriously,  

each word that strikes  

a chord of contempt and discontent,  

finding meaning in the haze,  

where shadows stretch and flicker,  

the spectrum shines brilliant,  

a kaleidoscope of whispers,  

the maze an enclosure,  

walls of thought closing in.  

 

He tries to code, decode the answers,  

navigating the labyrinth of letters,  

where even gibberish holds weight,  

his mind races, chasing fragments,  

conclusions drawn from threads of doubt,  

mistaken words echo through the silence,  

nonsensical rhymes and chimes  

clashing against the stillness,  

making sense of each punctuation mark  

like a compass in a storm.  

 

Earlier, he found words amusing,  

dancing through the fire,  

twirling in the flames of language,  

only to realize the burns and bruises,  

each scar a testament to battles fought—  

unhealed wounds that linger,  

reminders of the cost of truth.  

 

So he deals with these,  

his intelligence at high alert,  

an ever-watchful guardian,  

leaving him gasping for more,  

an indisputable search of research,  

within the chaos, the beauty unfolds,  

a tapestry woven from the threads  

of understanding and uncertainty,  

where every syllable breathes  

the weight of unspoken world.