In the tender embrace of midnight's breath,
every cranny shudders with unspoken sighs.
Here lies the heart's echo, a wisp of a touch,
dancing through the shadows of forgotten dreams.
A phantom limb cradles what once was real—a tender remembrance,
and in its caress, a yearning fills the air,
akin to a lover's shadow passing through the fog,
soft and lingering, a tether to the sacred past.
Even shadows yearn for the form they embrace,
transparent whispers slip through fingertips—
a perpetual dance in step with a void,
holding tight to places only dreams dare tread.