In the quiet rooms of memory,
where dust dances with the light,
we sit, sifting through the echoes,
tracing paths not taken, bright.
Fingers brush against the laughter,
tucked beneath the weight of tears,
holding close those fleeting moments,
whispered through the passing years.
Yet, in this gentle reckoning,
where past and present softly blend,
we find, amidst the shadows dancing,
love's light, unbroken, without end.