In the whispers of a quiet street,
Where the shadows play their part,
I trace the lines of unfinished stories,
With a vintage heart, slowly torn apart.
Broken mirrors hang on fragments of time,
Reflecting faces, faded colors blaze,
We dance in echoes of a dream sublime,
Lost in the twilight of forgotten days.
Dusty soul in a crowded room,
Searching for light in the darkened space,
A quiet rebellion against the gloom,
Finding my way through the light's embrace.
With paper wings, I’ll take to the skies,
Though trembling, I rise, unsure and free,
In the melancholy dreams where longing lies,
I chase the horizon, longing to be.
The winds may change, and the seasons will shift,
But hearts beat steady in their own refrain,
And through the trials, love will be the gift,
A melody echoed through joy and pain.
So let the stars hang low tonight,
And paint the night with silver glow,
I’ll hold my sorrow, I’ll hold the light,
With every step, this heart will grow.
In the quiet murmur where hope begins,
Together we’ll weave an endless chart,
For in every crack and crevice of skin,
Lies the beauty of a vintage heart.
Indie
Melancholy dreams, Vintage heart, Broken mirrors, Dusty soul, Faded colors, Quiet rebellion, Paper wings