In a forgotten alley, where time stands still,
Where echoes of footsteps have long been concealed,
There dances a ballet, a mystical sight,
The dance of shadows, in the depths of the night.

Whispers of secrets, they weave through the air,
As shadows waltz, casting tales everywhere,
Each step, a story, each twirl, a past,
In this forgotten alley, memories amassed.

The first shadow appears, with grace and with might,
A weary traveler, lost in the night,
His eyes tell the tale of a distant land,
Where dreams were shattered, like grains of sand.

The second shadow, a dancer so free,
A young lover, beneath the moonlit tree,
Her heart was broken, yet she still believes,
In love's enchantment, in what fate conceives.

The third shadow emerges, with longing and despair,
A poet, lost in thoughts, in his soul's affair,
His words paint a picture of a world misunderstood,
Where beauty is hidden, in shadows it could.

Another shadow joins, a worker so true,
His hands marked by labor, his heart burdened too,
He toiled day and night, for a dream yet to come,
In this forgotten alley, his spirit not undone.

The dance grows in rhythm, as more shadows appear,
Each one with a story, a triumph or a tear,
Mothers and fathers, children and old,
Their lives intertwined, their stories unfold.

The dance of shadows reveals secrets untold,
In this forgotten alley, their tales take hold,
For every passing soul, a memory remains,
Etched in the shadows, where silence sustains.

So let us not forget, as we journey through life,
The dance of shadows, in this alley so rife,
For in these forgotten places, stories reside,
Waiting to be discovered, as shadows collide.
#ShadowyNarratives

© Lemongao. W Greg