In the shadows beneath thoughts untangled,
where the fog of memories meets the dusk,
lies the phantom trembling at the edge of silence.
A question, unasked yet forever throbbing.
Does the heart know the moon's forgotten songs,
weaving stories on the canvas of a star’s sigh?
Or are these but dreams of the limbs that had danced
to the echo of their own gentle absence?
Within the alcoves of a specter's embrace,
the phantom limb cradles the weight of shadows.
Whispering to the forgotten answers wanted,
yet felt only deep as the twilight water...