Moonlight Echoes

In the silver-drenched silence, where whispers turn to shadows, the memories quiver like tremors beneath the skin. Once, there was laughter, or perhaps it was a distant melody that now eludes grasp.

The crescent moon watches, a guardian of forgotten tales, casting its glow over the unspoken, the unseen. Here, in this suspended moment, everything is both close and impossibly far away.

The tide of memories ebbs and flows, echoing across the sands of time. Footsteps on shores long past, and faces seen only in dreams. Are they reflections of ourselves, or of who we wish to be?

Each star a memory, flickering and fading, but their light reaches us still, illuminating the dark reaches of our hearts. The moon, a silent witness.