In the final breath of iridescent light,
echoes of galaxies seep through time's gnarled creases,
phosphorescent memories linger, birthed from gasps.
Celestial echoes tremble,
while dark hands grasp phantom cords of fate,
weaving the tapestry of forgotten dreams.
Do you hear the silent song of the abyss?
Time soars, frail, intertwined with shadows,
yet the heavy constellations weep stars in doses.
Cryptic wanderers carry the forgotten map, wearing old tales.
Mind the linger of gravity undone,
as horizons blur, scattering hopes like fragments.
Shadows dance, backlit by remorseful luminaries.
Flipping the pages of cosmic winds,
can you distill those resentful silences,
carving your essence from dying lights?
Every key for shadowed realms
rests thinly upon a fading heart,|
faintly illuminating your road, now yours
to traverse…