Nocturnes is a poetry collection inspired by poets whose creation has been a passionate reading of myself as well. In its entirety, it represents a pathway to traverse: from the innermost silence of a solitary voyager, to the outermost esplanades called life and knowledge. Both environments can be hostile sometimes to any migrants; therefore, poetry takes on the chores to abscond, reveal, and transform, playing with the imaginary in words. The book is composed of three main sections. Sylv(i)a (stories&me), owning its name to Sylvia Plath, an ancillary voice, a contemporary Calliope, but also it refers to the Silva, the forests where our own natures are glimpsed as reflections. A place of direct identification with Mamaquilla, between shadows and emotional leaves. Sylvia is a mother poetess. In Chorus(myths&theothers), the second section, a chorus of female voices intensifies the human sight by interposing its myths within the world and its interpretations. Reinventing the narratives through dramatic or tragic mythological archetypes, creativity determines our free will. Creating, we state our nature. Personae coping with love, anguish, and delusion walk by this second section. Σοφία(stories&thoughts), wisdom, instead, the last part of Nocturnes, attempts to synthesize the dialectic. Are we what we want or merely our destiny? The natural figures of Sylv(i)a have left space to the mythological ones, and in the end they all reappear conceptually: Time, On the evil, Symbols. Maybe there is no solution to the dialectic but a lighter humour sitting on the absurdity of our conditions, where the journey seems to take a rest, for now. Nocturnes images narratives letting them emerge as stories to be listened to Aristotelically, or eluding the temporal nexus because each word is also a σῆμα (sêma), as a language game suggests, a tomb. Each word might be a limit to silence towards simplicity and conciseness when time occurs.