A poem about life

In the shadowed halls of ancient whispers,

where moonlight dares to dance,

life unfurling like a tattered banner,

dripping with the weight of forgotten dreams. 

A raven, perched solemn on a withered branch,

sings of hearts entangled in the murky depths,

where sorrow flows like a river of ink,

each ripple a story lost to time’s embrace. 

The trees, gnarled fingers reaching for the sky,

clutch at the secrets buried beneath their roots,

and the wind, a haunting melody,

carries the sighs of those who wandered too far. 

In this twilight, I wander,

footsteps echoing through a tapestry of shadows,

each glance a fleeting moment,

a brush with the eternal night. 

Life stretches, a ghostly thread in the fabric,

woven with laughter and tears,

a portrait of fragility amidst the decay,

carved into the stone of existence. 

And as the stars emerge,

dim lanterns in the velvet abyss,

I seek the pulse of the unseen,

the beauty in the dark,

the life that breathes beneath the surface,

where echoes linger, and spirits dream.