Poetry

Fading Echoes

A voice once bright, now tangled in dusk,
spun through the hands of a clockless sky.
The air remembers what I cannot,
a whisper dissolving in rain.

Light bends, but never touches—
a phantom glow on water’s skin.
The river moves without a name,
pulling shadows from their silence.

I gather the dust of forgotten things,
a threadbare hush, a hollow breath.
Time sings with an open wound,
its melody dripping through the cracks.

Still, the world turns,
spilling echoes into the void.
And I, a flicker, a faltering note,
unravel into nothing.

©️anie.