In the silence of the night, the writer's name fades away
In the silence of the night, the writer's name fades away,
Like a falling star, leaving no trace, no sign.
The title, the plots, all the stories told,
Fade into memories, like the most distant dreams.
Memories, those treasures of the mind,
Withdraw into the depths, in a village forgotten by the world,
Where echoes of the past are merely winds,
And where phones do not disturb this complete silence.
The muses, those nine divine sisters,
Have vanished into the mists of time, without a trace,
Leaving behind only the memory of a rhyme,
And a world that now seems so deaf.
In the attempt to hold on to the past,
Memories slip away like sand through fingers,
And all that remains is a silent present,
Where memories are just subtle shadows.
On the river of forgetfulness, memories float,
Drifting away from the shores of knowledge,
And in the depths of the heart, they sink,
Leaving behind only silence and endless sadness.
At midnight, when the world sleeps,
Answers are sought in the pages of old books,
But the moon, witness to the silence, seems to know,
That memories are just dreams lost in the night.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
