In a twilight hue, where shadows blend,
A canvas draped in whispers, that never end,
Gray clouds gather, heavy like a sigh,
As the heartbeats falter, and dreams dare to fly.

Soft echoes ripple, like a forgotten tune,
A haunting ballet beneath the pale moon.
The palette of sorrow, indigo and ash,
Each stroke a memory, each glance a crash.

Yet within this murk, a...