ECHOES OF THE PAST

In ancient woods where shadows softly dance and play, The whispers of old times are caught at close of day. Among the silent trees where time seems to stand still, The echoes of forgotten tales drift gently, still. As the sun sinks low behind the distant hills, The ghosts of days gone by emerge with quiet thrills. Their voices blend with rustling leaves, both faint and clear, Telling stories of old loves and battles fought in fear. The river’s gentle flow brings memories to light, Moonbeams touch the water, soft and silver-bright. Its surface holds the secrets of a time now passed, Yet in its peaceful ripples, memories seem to last. The stones that line the path are worn and marked by age, Each one a silent witness to the lives they engaged. Every step upon their surface wakes a distant song, Hints of lives and moments that forever do belong. The wind through the trees carries echoes from the past, Of love and loss, of dreams that never seemed to last. It whispers through the dark, a soft and haunting sound, Bringing back the stories that the night has gently bound. The stars up high are witnesses to every tale, Their light a steady guide through shadows that prevail. They watch the world below and listen to the cries, Of voices from the past beneath the endless skies. As night descends with grace upon the quiet glen, The echoes of the past awaken once again. In the calm of twilight, stories weave their way, A tapestry of memories that never fade away. With dawn's first light, the night’s whispers start to fade, Yet in the heart’s quiet corners, memories will stay. For in the depths of time, where shadows softly rest, The echoes of old stories are forever manifest.