Whispers of the Forgotten
Reflection
In the shadowed hall where time stands still,
A solitary figure, cloaked in twilight's will.
The room breathes secrets, walls adorned with grace,
A portrait hangs, a silent, watchful face.
The light from the window, a ghostly glow,
Illuminates the path where shadows flow.
The woman's gaze, a mirror of the soul,
Reflects the weight of burdens, yet she holds.
The table, laden with remnants of a past,
Tells tales of lives once vibrant, now cast.
The fire in the hearth, though dim and low,
Burns with the embers of what once was so.
Oh, viewer, see yourself in her reflection,
For in her eyes, your own journey is inscribed.
The room, a canvas of the human heart,
Where memories linger, and time takes its part.
Let this image be a mirror to your soul,
A reminder that we all carry the load.
The whispers of the forgotten, they call to you,
To find your strength, to rise anew.