In the stillness of forgotten rooms,
Where sunlight weaves through ancient gloom,
Dust dances in a silent ballet,
Whispers of memories that fade away.

Once vibrant lives now shadows cast,
Their stories buried in the past,
Each particle a tale untold,
A secret in the dust of old.

Time moves on, relentless and vast,
Yet in the dust, some moments last,
A fleeting glimpse of what has been,
A fragile link to times unseen.

So let the dust in sunbeams play,
A ghostly dance in light of day,
For in its flight, we find a trace,
Of lives long lived in this still place.