Beneath the stars, we whispered dreams,
painted in the invisible ink of twilight.
Ephemeral, they drift, like smoke,
into the ever-hungry void.

Remember the alleyway where shadows spoke?
Uncertain Paths beneath the
glow of a flickering streetlamp,
your presence felt more than seen, an echo
reverberating off brick walls.

Time, the relentless river, swept it all
away, but still, I remember.
Invisible words linger, like ghosts,
in the spaces between breaths.

Sometime in a distant past, we laughed,
ensnared by the webs of our own making,
conversations spooling into the night.
Silent Observations that
spoke louder than words, etching
memories upon the fragile canvas
of existence.

Do you see how the light dances?
A fleeting moment, a transient
joy, ephemeral as morning dew.
Yet here it is, captured in motion,
a whisper of history,
forever lost and found all at once.