In the smoke of time,
Even dreams once sublime
Turn to whispers in the ear,
Fading, yet still crystal clear.
Carrying the weight of endless years,
Leaving behind traces of tears,
Like echoes of laughter lost in the night,
Slipping away, just out of sight.
Yet amidst these fading fears,
A spark of hope still cheers.
It dances like light through the rain,
Promising that nothing’s in vain.
Through the shadows, it weaves a thread,
Bringing warmth where once was dread.
After the long shower of sorrow and pain,
The moon rises once again.
Like a flower delicate and true,
Dreams must bloom to see us through.
Nurtured by hope and watered by care,
They reach for a future, fragile but rare.
But when feet finally touch the ground,
The weight of reality comes around.
And like glass too fragile to hold,
Shattering beneath the bold.
But as the silence settles near,
Dreams dissolve, they disappear.
Like mist that fades with morning light,
Never meant to hold or fight.
For dreams are whispers lost in air,
Fragile, fleeting, beyond repair.
They dance like shadows in the fading day,
Forever slipping further away.
YOU ARE READING
Whisper in the echoes of rain
PoetryThese poems are an exploration of the quiet moments that often go unnoticed. They delve into the emotions that linger in the shadows, the thoughts that echo in silence, and the feelings that are often left unspoken. Each verse captures a fragment of...
