**Dim-Hearted**

In the twilight of a world grown weary,
where the sun bleeds into the horizon,
and shadows stretch like tired arms,
I wander through valleys of softened light,
searching for remnants of brilliance long faded.
Each step a whisper,
each breath a sigh,
as the heaviness of unspoken dreams
drags against the fabric of my heart.

The trees stand sentinel, their leaves
a weary mosaic of greens and browns,
rustling softly with tales of yesterdays,
when laughter danced like sunlight
on wildflower meadows,
and hope wore its brightest colors.
Now, I pass beneath their gnarled arms,
feeling the weight of their faraway echoes,
as if they too know the taste of dimness,
the shade that creeps in uninvited,
to snuff the flicker of desire.

I recall the glow of summer’s fervor,
where dreams unspooled like ribbons in the breeze,
carefree and unburdened,
but with each autumn’s chill,
fading embers flicker and sputter,
leaving only a cold residue of what was.
The whispers of winter beckon,
a hushed lullaby of...