Beneath the pastel skies, whispers roam
in the solemn embrace of twilight's calm.
Listen close, for static lullabies sing
the ballads of ancient unseen realms.
Once, in the hush of forgotten times,
voices of dusk painted the horizon
with strokes of dreams unfulfilled,
yet tender, they persist—echoes of yesteryears.
What secrets do the stars remember?
A melodic question without an answer,
drifting through the veil of yesterday.
Only the moon knows, silently watching.