Ephemeral Joys

Beneath the blistering sun, shadows whisper. In the noon hour, when clarity is king, these whispers unravel tales of forsaken joy.
The specters of laughter fade, leaving behind remnants of what was and what never could be. Gaze into the abyss of their murmur.

They say the sunlight reveals all truths. Yet, shadows shift shapes, crafting illusions of reality
as they mock the stability of the anchored soul. A dance of dualities unfolds—light holds its breath,
fearing the shadows that play beneath its dominance.