The clockwork moon, a silver dime,
Spins stories in the midnight grime.
A whisper stirs, a phantom breeze,
Through skeletal, forgotten trees.
The cobblestone, a silver thread,
Where shadows dance, and dreams are bred.
A lone streetlamp, a weary eye,
Watches the world, as moments die.
The rustling leaves, a secret tongue,
Of tales untold, and songs unsung.
A hollow echo, down the lane,
Of laughter lost, and gentle rain.
The window pane, a frosted screen,
Reflects a world, unseen, between.
The waking hours, and slumber deep,
Where secrets hide, and phantoms creep.
A single note, a violin's sigh,
Drifts through the air, and touches sky.
A melancholic, haunting tune,
Beneath the cold, indifferent moon.
The river flows, a serpent's glide,
Where mirrored stars, in darkness hide.
A silent journey, to the sea,
A whispered promise, eternally.
The city sleeps, a concrete dream,
While restless souls, in darkness gleam.
A tapestry of tangled thought,
Where fragile hopes, are dearly bought.
The painted sky, a canvas vast,
Where memories fade, and shadows cast.
A fleeting glimpse, of what might be,
A whispered prayer, for you and me.
The old bookstore, a dusty shrine,
Where stories wait, in every line.
A hidden world, within the page,
Where time stands still, and passions rage.
The distant train, a mournful cry,
A metal beast, that rushes by.
A fleeting moment, lost and gone,
A lonely journey, carried on.
Page 2
The broken swing, a rusted chain,
A silent witness, to the rain.
A child's laughter, long since stilled,
A vacant space, forever filled.
The garden gate, a wooden frame,
Where roses bloom, and shadows claim.
A hidden path, to secret ways,
Where sunlight dances, through the haze.
The attic dust, a golden sheen,
Where forgotten treasures, lie unseen.
A faded photograph, a worn-out toy,
Remnants of joy, and girl and boy.
The lighthouse beam, a steady guide,
Through stormy seas, where dangers hide.
A beacon bright, in darkest night,
A symbol strong, of guiding light.
The ocean's roar, a mighty sound,
Where crashing waves, on shore are bound.
A restless spirit, wild and free,
A vast expanse, eternally.
The mountain's peak, a jagged crown,
Where clouds descend, and winds blow down.
A silent watcher, strong and bold,
A story etched, in winters cold.
The desert sand, a golden sea,
Where ancient secrets, wait to be.
A barren landscape, vast and wide,
Where time itself, is forced to hide.
The forest deep, a verdant maze,
Where sunlight filters, through the haze.
A hidden world, of life untold,
Where ancient spirits, still unfold.
The campfire's glow, a flickering flame,
Where stories shared, ignite the same.
A circle formed, beneath the stars,
Where healing thoughts, erase the scars.
The whispered word, a gentle plea,
A silent hope, for you and me.
A fragile moment, held so dear,
A whispered promise, drawing near.
The rising sun, a golden ray,
That chases shadows, far away.
A brand new day, a fresh start made,
A hopeful dream, that won't degrade.
