Lost Dreams
In the quiet hours of the night,
When the stars burn dim, and the moon hides its light,
I wander through the halls of my mind,
Seeking the dreams I’ve left behind.
Once they gleamed with a golden hue,
Bright as dawn and pure as dew.
I held them close, my guiding flame,
But time, unkind, called out their name.
The winds of doubt, the tides of fear,
Washed them away, year by year.
Like whispers faint, they slipped my hold,
Turning to shadows, distant and cold.
Yet in their place, a lesson grew,
Of roads untraveled, paths askew.
For dreams may fade, but seeds remain,
To bloom again through loss and pain.
So now I stand, though tears may fall,
Amidst the echoes of their call.
To dream anew, to rise and soar,
For lost dreams pave the way for more.
They linger still, a soft refrain,
Urging me to hope again.
In their silence, I find my voice—
A second chance, a bolder choice.
When the stars burn dim, and the moon hides its light,
I wander through the halls of my mind,
Seeking the dreams I’ve left behind.
Once they gleamed with a golden hue,
Bright as dawn and pure as dew.
I held them close, my guiding flame,
But time, unkind, called out their name.
The winds of doubt, the tides of fear,
Washed them away, year by year.
Like whispers faint, they slipped my hold,
Turning to shadows, distant and cold.
Yet in their place, a lesson grew,
Of roads untraveled, paths askew.
For dreams may fade, but seeds remain,
To bloom again through loss and pain.
So now I stand, though tears may fall,
Amidst the echoes of their call.
To dream anew, to rise and soar,
For lost dreams pave the way for more.
They linger still, a soft refrain,
Urging me to hope again.
In their silence, I find my voice—
A second chance, a bolder choice.
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