In the quiet corners of my mind,
Memories weave like threads of gold,
Flickers of moments, left behind,
Stories once lived, now silently told.
Past whispers dance with shadows long,
In the heart's gallery, they hang on the wall,
A mosaic of laughter, love, and song,
Echoes of footsteps, in empty halls.
With each remembering, they shimmer anew,
These specters of past, in the light of present dreams,
A tender touch, the sky's softest blue,
In the heart, forever, where yesterday gleams.