PHPoem: "The Echo of Footsteps"
(A reflective poem about time and memories.)
The echoes call from halls of stone,
Where whispers dance, now dust and bone.
A single step, a fleeting trace,
Yet time moves on, a cruel embrace.
Beneath the stars, we watch, we wait,
The past stands still, the present late.
What once was bright now softly fades,
Like evening light in autumn’s shade.
But though the echoes dim and die,
Their voices drift where soft winds sigh.
For every step we leave behind,
Becomes a song in fate’s design.