In the twilight where certainty fades,
a soft whisper echoes, entangled in
the tapestry of time and silence.
She stands—reflection in an obsidian mirror,
her silhouette mingling with a gray mist.
Once, her laughter danced among
the dew-kissed echoes of dawn,
but now, only shadows linger,
draped in the velvet of forgotten dreams.
The moon cradles her sorrows,
weeping iridescent tears.
Follow the sighs and discover the fading
echoes that love once dared to speak.
The heart trembles at the thought,
of what was and what can never be.
The whispers remain...
Beneath the greying sky, she waits,
for a touch of sunlight, a fleeting
moment of warmth in her cool embrace.
Eternity is an illusion, decaying
like petals of a rose long past bloom.