On a path less trodden where petals once kissed the dew, I find remnants of laughter - memories stitched in twilight's embrace. The moon, a silent witness, knows the stories we wrote with a trembling gaze and a heart unbound.
Dieu sait que j’aimais ces nuits...
In ancient halls of my imagination, echoes dance with shadows, weaving together forgotten pieces of love songs unsung. There lies an ember, faint yet vibrant, in its sorrowful beauty.