The Sphinx And The Bird

What flies yet never flees?
What sees but never shuts its eyes?

A bird twists riddles in its beak
Wings curled like broken maps
It asks: What moves the unseen gears?
What holds the world without a grasp?
There’s no answer in the wind
No truth in shadows cast
Only questions shape the edges
As the moment splits and cracks

The sphinx waits on hollow horizons
Claws carving silence into stone
Its smile holds the weight of knowing
But its gaze burns you to the bone
Not all questions seek an answer—
Some are meant to be alone

The bird replies: Meaning is the cage
Built from bars of seeking minds
Its song spirals out like whispers
Pulling threads no one can bind
The sphinx leans in, the glyphs ignite
What holds the riddle
When the answer hides?

The sphinx waits on hollow horizons
Claws carving silence into stone
Its smile holds the weight of knowing
But its gaze burns you to the bone
Not all questions seek an answer
Some are meant to be alone

What is the leap without the void?
What is the fall without the air?
The feather descends, a cipher undone
A symbol stripped bare

What breathes without flesh?
What holds but does not touch?
The wind folds inward
A quiet scream

The sky swallows all things
The feathers, the flight, the silence
Even the weight
Of what’s left unsaid

What holds the riddle when the answer disappears?