A lullaby crawls through ivy vines,
Whispering secrets of forgotten time;
Melodies spread like dapples of sunlight,
Caught in the delicate web of twilight.
Beneath the silver whispers of the moon,
Shadows of laughter dance with a tune;
Fragments of joy dripped on fragile petals,
Fleeting yet stuck in rusty spools and nettles.
Children’s eyes, eyes sown with wonder,
Vision of lost birds, torn asunder;
Walking on crayons through dusky skylines,
Where dreams and reality mix their pines.
But, hark! the silence swells,
Longing to craft its velvety spells;
Dreams tread lightly, browsing grieved spaces,
Where darkness skims collecting whispers’ traces.
Find your way through trinkets assorted,
Hidden doors invite you—heartened but tortured;
Sing with shadows, a luminous echo,
The song interlude dancing to your sorrow.
Attach a tiny string to hopeful things,
Here too gathers the music of kings;
Follow me to mystic realms,
To be lost, is to find—worth a thousand overwhelms.