Sailing past the lavender shores, where
the clock once sung, ringing with absence
in echoing tones of sepia memories. A fusion
of forgotten yesterdays and tomorrows unspooled like
thread across a vast woven tapestry of
oranges spun by impatient hands. The rain dances
like a photographer lost amidst the rain.
The sun rises like an old friend,
its warmth remembered, but not its face. And
time, a digital specter, pauses to listen.
Did you hear the sea again, in the hum
of a departed song, the melody of
a world washed away under the night sky?
Velvet shadows fold around silhouettes that dance
sardonically in corners where dreams dwell silently.