Whispers, in the hollow between breaths,
a distant echo of forgotten places.
Time, a wind that bends the trees
yet leaves the sky unbroken.
Moments slip, sand through fingers,
the soft touch of what has been.
Whispers, in the hollow between breaths,
a distant echo of forgotten places.
Time, a wind that bends the trees
yet leaves the sky unbroken.
Moments slip, sand through fingers,
the soft touch of what has been.