Whispers of the Faint Things

"It is in the quiet hours soon after dusk, where the remnants of dreams forgotten linger with uninterrupted patience. Do you remember the evenings, filled with stories wrapped in silks of starlight, hints of lullabies never sung?"

Reflect for a moment, for one could perhaps hear them yet. Secrets in forgotten corridors, murmurs in colors we forgot how to name.

The candle flickers, casting echoes on walls no longer ours, but somehow familiar still, reminding of portals left open, paths we only tread in sleep. Embers of yesterday's hopes dissolve into the night, rediscovered in fleeting shadows.

Find clarity in diffusion through time; of moments like dew upon the dawn grass, fading yet ageless in their grace.

What if these memories are remembrances? Not of what we achieved, but of the selves we almost became, paths left unwoven yet calling. Remind, illuminate the obscured rabbit holes.