Pardon

In the quiet corners of my mind, where shadows dance,

There lies a melody of words, seeking a chance.

For poetry's dance is a siren's call.

A tapestry of dreams woven in rhyme,

Echoes of forgotten tales, lost in time.

Pardon the whispers that escape my pen,

For poetry blooms in the hearts of men.

In twilight's embrace, where stars softly gleam,

I chase elusive thoughts, like a fleeting dream.

Pardon these musings, these fragments untold,

For in each verse, a universe unfolds.

So forgive the imperfections in this humble art,

For poetry breathes from the depths of the heart.