Whispers of fading lanterns
dissolve into spectral hues,
where time yawns and dreams crumble.
Eroded fragments of laughter
drift through a culvert of rusted memories,
grasping at ephemeral echoes.
Drowning in oceans of variable shadows,
shades of existence rattle
like skeleton keys that unlock nothing.
A clock ticks backward,
unraveling moments
woven in the tapestry of uncertainty.
As the moon cries thick liquid silver,
roots cling to the fabric of oblivion,
seeking warmth in the cold embrace of decay.