In whispers, they speak,
of shadows that linger,
on the edge of forgotten dreams.
In whispers, they speak,
of shadows that linger,
on the edge of forgotten dreams.
The sea's gentle sigh,
conceals tales of ancient mariners,
lost in the depth of time.
Stars weep light,
over a grid woven with fates
that bind and unbind the circadian souls.
Frost-kissed memories,
dance in a cadence of silence,
where the past’s breath muffles the present.
Roots of ancient oaks,
cradle the echoes of laughter,
beneath a canopy of woven eternities.
Time’s tender embrace,
upon the mosaic of lost spirits,
and the enigmatic glow of forgotten hours.