Is this the consonance of what once was, or merely echoes of our wavering minds? The air is thick with the scent of yesterday's memories, hung like shadows in the dim light.
Sometimes, I walk the same path and hear the familiar creaks of wooden floors, as if they too remember. A soft laughter flits about, lingering just out of reach.
A moment, frozen like dew on blades of grass at dawn, stays within a heartbeat but slips through fingers like water. The clarity is blurring.
What dreams still breathe within? Revisit the veils of dreams
And what truths lie hidden? Dare to embrace the echoes
Isn't it curious, how a glance backward creates ripples in our hearts that change everything yet nothing?