Still, your name softly lingers in the quiet halls of my mind,
a gentle echo that time cannot erase or unwind.
Your face, like a fading light at the edge of dusk,
rests tenderly in the folds of memory’s husk.

I wonder why your presence holds such gentle sway,
like a distant star that guides the night’s slow ballet—
a subtle thread woven through the fabric of my days,
a quiet song that hums in delicate ways.

I do not wish to be a prisoner of mere shadows and dreams,
but to build from hope a love that flows like gentle streams—
one that will quietly ripple through the stillness of the world,
when you choose me, and our story is softly unfurled.

And when the eyes of others glance upon our secret grace,
they’ll see not just a chance, but a sacred embrace—
a bond that words could never fully define,
a tender truth written beyond the bounds of time.