The Whisper of Forgotten Dreams

In shadows deep, where echoes lie,

Beneath the stretch of starless sky,

There lingers soft, a whispered thread,

Of dreams once lived, now long thought dead.

They stir in quiet, dust-cloaked air,

Untouched by time, unknown to care.

Yet still they breathe, in secret light,

And call upon the sleeping night.

Once vibrant hopes, now faint and worn,

By winds of doubt, by years forlorn.

But listen close, they gently plead,

A spark remains, a timeless seed.

For dreams don’t die, they simply wait,

In silence, patient, for their fate.

And when we pause, in stillness be,

Their whispers rise to set us free.