They wandered upward, untethered, beyond the horizon's grasp,
shedding strings like forgotten memories,
flares of color dimming in the autumn's sigh.
The whispers of the wind cradle secrets untold,
echoes of laughter lost in the clangor of dusk,
shadows dance upon the broken frames of yesterday's dreams.
Do you hear their voices, woven through the twilight air?
A symphony of silken threads singing of journeys untaken,
of chasms and voids where kites once soared free.
In the grip of night's velvet touch,
a constellation of lost things finds its home,
and the kites, they dream of skies unbound.
Are we not like them, casting shadows in the wind,
searching for the tethered stars amidst the endless night?
Our voices, too, a forgotten symphony, a lost flight.