Fragments of whispers lost in the dust
beneath mist-laden meadows and parades unseen
of flickering shadows, gone with the wind,
disappearing ink over rewriting sand.
Did they dream in colors they had never seen?
Beneath each eyelid, an ocean, a continent,
an empire of nuances shaded in twilight twilight.
Remembrance bleeds through velvet curtains.
Occasional echoes from corridors unseen,
paved with memories warmer than tomorrows.
These palimpsests, these reinventions,
shadow puppets dance, laugh, weep.