Echoes of the Dream Journal

Faint whispers of forgotten paths.

Odors of time, rubbing against skin.

Sounds of a glass breaking

In the distance, someone calls your name.

A blanket of fog, resting gently on memories.

Untitled Shadows

Daylight bleeds through the cracks.

Half-formed visions linger beyond the edge.

The scent of burning pages

Echoes of laughter, never heard.

Pale circles in disturbed sand.

The silence of forgotten clocks