Pastel Memories

The walls hum quietly, a tune forgotten in the glow of the sugar sky.
Echoes of laughter slip through the cracks, fleeting like birds at dusk.
Once, there were colors—pink, mint, and soft lilac hues—stretching endlessly.
Now, only ghosts of pastel dreams linger.

Close your eyes and listen; the breeze carries stories of yore.
The whispers speak in riddles, in fragments of half-formed sentences.
Did you hear the bells? They toll for the moments that slipped away,
For words spoken in sleep, fading softly with the first light.