In the quiet of the evening’s tender glow,
Whispers of the past begin to flow,
Memories dance upon the twilight’s edge,
Painting stories on life’s fragile ledge.

The laughter of youth, a distant chime,
Carved in the caverns of our mind,
Faces and places, now shadows in the mist,
A bittersweet reminder of moments we’ve kissed.

The echo of footsteps on forgotten paths,
Unfolding tales of joy and wrath,
Time, a relentless keeper of the keys,
Unlocks the doors to our histories.

Yet in the silence, a solace we find,
In the embrace of memories kind,
For the past, though gone, still breathes,
In the heart, where it forever weaves.