Whispers Beneath the Bell's Midnight Shadow

midnight-winded echoes, my thoughts run like parallel rivers
drifting whispers caught in the silver lace of the moon's sigh
shadows of musings cast on walls that are not there anymore
clinging to dreams that walk barefoot upon night's dew-touched grass
barely holding on to fragments: "Do you hear that?... it sounds like..."
traced by the flickering glow of the lighthouse where once was our starting line
they whisper, invisible shadows casting silhouettes of thoughts unvoiced
can you see them? tracing circles on their tippy-toes in the dim light
lingering echoes fall like dew upon our shoulders, not cold
a stretch of silence that fills the spaces between, encompassing
yet it’s more than a memory, it’s the lifecycle of stars dying in days not planned
“where did we go?” the question floats, unanchored in liquid night
sails unfurled to dreams infinte, chasing horizons forever borrowed
fragmentary paths and reminiscences