Its been years
since our lives drifted apart,
distance and silence created
an abyss between us.
There were no words,
no meetings,
no gestures to unite us .
But in the stillness of the night,
in the murmur of the wind,
your presence was felt,
like a distant whisper.
You were an echo
in the vast emptiness of the years,
a reflection of what might have been,
a silent presence.
I never knew if fate
would bring us together again,
but the silence held
a dialogue that never materialised.
Time is a river
That we cannot cross again,
but in every shooting star,
in every sunrise,
theres always something
that reminds me of you.
A memory,
the illusion of seeing you
in the twilight.
The years have woven their own stories,
each moving in separate directions.
Though your name faded in time,
your essence remains
in the texture of my memory.
I never witnessed your life,
But I felt the imprint of your being.
Time is a river
That we cannot cross again,
but in every shooting star,
in every sunrise,
theres always something
that reminds me of you.
A memory,
the illusion of seeing you
in the twilight.
Sometimes I wonder if at some moment
you thought of me,
if some shadow of being
crossed your thoughts.
Althought there has been
no search or reunion,
your presence lingers
like a heartbeat in the distance.
Now that you are gone,
the emptiness is greater,
but the resonance of your being
still lingers in space.
Perhaps one day,
at the edge of our stories,
we will meet in the echo
of a shared memory.
Time is a river
That we cannot cross again,
but in every shooting star,
in every sunrise,
theres always something
that reminds me of you.
A memory,
the illusion of seeing you
in the twilight.
Perhaps one day,
at the edge of our stories,
we will meet in the echo
of a shared memory.