Chronicles of Shadows
A Lament in Crescendo
The wind carries whispers along alabaster bricks,
tracing lines of forgotten sonnets on hallowed fog.
Shadows elongate where light forgets to dance,
and those unsung songs vibrate, symphonies in silence.
The streets hum with echoes of unnamed stardust,
weaving chandeliers of sentiment through empty cauldrons—
nocturne hearts beat in tandem with electric rain.
Asterope, she travails, with alabaster wings torn awash in lamplight.
Nocturnal errors
A chorus sculpted in brass veins shimmer,
beneath the arches where frost-clad daffodils will bow,
unfurling lips upon saga-carved veins in rhythm with dusk's ancient favour.
Within the cellars of dawn's forgotten mirror,
riddles of yesteryears wine are poured—
each sip is a cascade of twilit splinters,
of lexicons lost beneath menus of golddust.
We shall hang on precipices where stories untie their tongues,
bathing in reveries dappled with faces of bygone whispers.
A cacophony of unsung songs, symmetries of shadows lost,
transverse the labyrinth of colors spun in borrowed time.