Ghosts and Dust
If words were enough,?
I'd speak until the sun set on forever,?
Etching you into history with each breath—?
Every line a tribute to the echo of you.
Like Praxiteles chiseling marble,?
I'd carve away the world,?
Until only your essence remains,?
Perfect and unyielding against the tides of time.
But even stone can crumble,?
And memories fade like whispers lost to the winds.?
Still, I’d carve you
Deep into my soul,?
Even when all that remains are ghosts and dust.
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