In the twilight glow, down the dusty trail,
Where shadows linger, and memories unveil,
I hear a hollow song of the moon's gentle sigh,
Echoing softly beneath a velvet sky.
Whispers of the past rustle through the trees,
Carried on the wings of a velvety breeze,
Each note a reminder of the harvest we lost,
Faded and weary, counting all the costs.
Strumming on a rusted guitar by the fire,
The chords tell stories of love and desire,
The laughter and heartache that danced in the air,
Like autumn leaves swirling, they float everywhere.
With faces like worn maps, and hearts full of grace,
We gather our dreams in this sacred place,
Hand in hand, we wander through the years that remain,
Finding beauty and solace in joy and in pain.
So here by the river, as the stars come alive,
We'll sing our hollow song, let our spirits thrive,
For every faded harvest brings seeds to the ground,
In the warmth of our voices, our love will be found.
As the night deepens and the embers start to fade,
We'll carry this moment, in memories laid,
With a heart full of hope and a story to share,
We'll walk this dusty trail, forever aware.
Folk
Dusty Trail, Hollow Song, Velvet Breeze, Faded Harvest, Rusted Guitar