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Whispers in the Dust
Whispers in the Dust
In the hallowed halls of forgotten tomes,
Where time weaves its sepia threads,
A solitary table stands, weathered and worn,
Its surface etched with secrets unsaid.
I'm sorry, but I love you
The words, like ink stains on parchment,
Echo through the dim-lit aisles,
Where memories linger, fragile and tender,
And hearts find solace in whispered trials.
I'm sorry, but I love you
The flicker of candlelight dances on oak,
As pages turn, revealing hidden desires,
Lost souls seeking refuge in prose and rhyme,
Their longing etched in ink, like ancient fires.
I'm sorry, but I love you
The librarian, a guardian of silent confessions,
Treads softly, her footsteps echoing fate,
For within these walls, love blooms and withers,
And the table bears witness to love's weight.
I'm sorry, but I love you
So let the dust settle upon forgotten dreams,
And let the moon trace patterns on the floor,
For in this vintage library, hearts entwine,
And love whispers its secrets forevermore.
© JR2K6
In the hallowed halls of forgotten tomes,
Where time weaves its sepia threads,
A solitary table stands, weathered and worn,
Its surface etched with secrets unsaid.
I'm sorry, but I love you
The words, like ink stains on parchment,
Echo through the dim-lit aisles,
Where memories linger, fragile and tender,
And hearts find solace in whispered trials.
I'm sorry, but I love you
The flicker of candlelight dances on oak,
As pages turn, revealing hidden desires,
Lost souls seeking refuge in prose and rhyme,
Their longing etched in ink, like ancient fires.
I'm sorry, but I love you
The librarian, a guardian of silent confessions,
Treads softly, her footsteps echoing fate,
For within these walls, love blooms and withers,
And the table bears witness to love's weight.
I'm sorry, but I love you
So let the dust settle upon forgotten dreams,
And let the moon trace patterns on the floor,
For in this vintage library, hearts entwine,
And love whispers its secrets forevermore.
© JR2K6
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