Faded Ink

The ink has faded,
Letters torn—
Words once heavy
Now forlorn.
The scent of jasmine,
Now just air—
Memories linger,
Soft and bare.

Faded ink—
Whispers remain:
A touch of love,
A hint of pain.
Pages crumble,
Hearts once bold—
Stories told,
But never old.

The cello hums
where silence grew—
A quiet ache,
A love we knew.
Guitar strings hum
a fragile tune,
A snare's soft brush,
The afternoon.

A candle burned,
The wax ran thin—
Fingers traced
where dreams begin.

Faded ink—
Whispers remain:
A touch of love,
A hint of pain.
Pages crumble,
Hearts once bold—
Stories told,
But never old.

The clock still ticks,
The hands don't pause—
We stitched the seams,
Ignored the flaws.
The cello weeps,
The moon looks on—
The night remembers
what is gone.

Faded ink—
Whispers remain:
A touch of love,
A hint of pain.
Pages crumble,
Hearts once bold—
Stories told,
But never old.

Faded ink—
Whispers remain:
A touch of love,
A hint of pain.
Pages crumble,
Hearts once bold—
Stories told,
But never old.


https://rutube.ru/video/d749db2d5bb4f993e5899a8bbe0c348a/