Whispers of the Night

In the shadowed lanes where time whispers low, A figure stands, a beacon in the gloom. Her gaze, a mirror of the soul's profound, Reflects the echoes of a world unseen. The cobblestones beneath her feet, a path That winds through dreams and memories untold. Her presence, a symphony of light and shade, A silent hymn to the forgotten past. The air is thick with stories yet untold, Each breath a thread in the tapestry of time. Her eyes, a window to the infinite, A gateway to the realms of the sublime. In this moment, she is both the past and future, A bridge between the known and the unknown. Her presence lingers, a timeless grace, A whisper of the night, a silent grace.