Echoes of the Past

Whispers beneath the shroud of time,
A kaleidoscope of shadow and sun,
Where do the dreams of yesteryears dwell?
In the cobwebbed corners of the mind,
They linger, softly weeping, laughing,
As echoes of forgotten laughter rinse the air.

A tapestry woven in twilight threads,
Each fiber a story, a face, a song sung
By voices unseen; yet they sing to me,
Remnants of moments unfinished,
Touched once, now only their echoes remain,
In the gentle cradle of the past's embrace.

Do you remember the silver rain?
Falling like stars, breaking like silence,
It painted every dream anew with light,
Only to fade, like the soft echo
Of a bell, ringing in the distance
Of stories untold, of futures unknown.