In the quiet of the twilight, shadows dare to creep,
Whispers in the darkness, secrets lost to keep.
With rusted edges of a life that once gleamed bright,
We wander through the silence, searching for the light.
Falling embers flicker, as the stars begin to fade,
Illuminating dreams that are slowly being laid.
The air is thick with wonders, and the past holds a sigh,
Underneath the surface, there are lives that used to fly.
Bleeding skies paint the horizon, in hues of what was lost,
Memories like fragile paper, cut from love's own cost.
And hidden voices echo, bringing stories long forgotten,
They dance among the ashes, where the dreams leave us besotten.
Through the silent aftermath, we trace our broken lines,
Finding strength in shadows, where the hope subtly shines.
In the aftermath we gather, every piece we can reclaim,
Woven into futures, from the ashes of our shame.
So let the embers smolder, let them light up the night,
For in rusted edges, we find beauty in the fight.
Though the heavens bleed above us, we can rise, we can mend,
In this quiet revolution, we embrace, not just pretend.
With every thread we're weaving, crafting stories yet to come,
In the aftermath of silence, hear the beating of our drums.
Together we’ll unearth the lost, let the shadows intertwine,
For in the echoes of our past, a new dawn will align.
In rusted edges, we find our way,
Through whispers of the night, we learn to stay.
Alternative
Rusted edges, falling embers, bleeding skies, hidden voices, silent aftermath