Echoes: Veils of Uncertainty
A silver bird departs, the sky serene,
Yet morning’s promise shatters in a breath;
Ash falls where laughter and bright hopes had been,
A city mourns the sudden hand of death.
In distant hills, a traveler’s path grows cold,
A journey meant for dreams, now left undone;
The news arrives—too heavy to be told—
A vanished step, a race that’s never run.
Where rivers wind through valleys deep with pine,
And pilgrims seek the solace of the land,
A shadow falls, intentions intertwine
With violence wrought by an unseen hand.
Yet through these veils, uncertain as the night,
We hold each fragile day, and seek the light.
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