Beneath the twilight sky, I pen my ephemeral thoughts, shadows dancing in the candlelight. Each word, a droplet of my essence, mingles with the unseen wind, a sonnet to the stars that twinkle in cruel indifference.
There was once a love that echoed in the chambers of my heart, a symphony yet played, a hand that reached out from the mist. I sought the face of the muse in every distant shore, in the whispering of the waves, and the sigh of the autumn leaves.
The streets I wander are adorned with memories of a life not led. Here, I meet strangers who wear familiar smiles, ghosts reliving the lines of their unspoken stories. Each intersection becomes a crossroads of possibility, hauntingly beautiful.
Somewhere in the fog of these streets lies a truth, as old as time, yet new to my wandering soul. The echoes of your laughter linger, a reminder of the warmth that once made this path luminous.