In a reverie of dusk, wings whisper tales,
luminescent shadows drape across the haze of forgotten τ,
a gentle flutter through fractured memories,
heard only by silence’s embrace,
where unturned pages blend with light, sing sweetly—
the past finds solace beneath ash trees,
colors bleeding into the night.
Why do echoes dance in the comfort of lost thoughts,
chasing the fleeting shadows of amber moments?
They dive through a spectral horizon,
searching for solace where the clouds fail to tell.