Eternal Slumber

In the stillness of time, a figure lies bound by threads of fate, Wrapped in the fabric of memory, a testament to life's transient state. The skull, a canvas of bone, bears the weight of years gone by, A haunting reminder of the beauty that once danced in the eye. The hands, once instruments of creation, now rest in eternal repose, A poignant symbol of the dreams that wither like autumn's leaves. The background, a tapestry of forgotten tales, whispers secrets to the wind, As the figure's presence transcends mortality, a bridge between worlds to mend. In this solemn tableau, we find the beauty of the ephemeral, A reflection of our own journey, where love and loss entwine like the threads that bind. The image speaks to the heart, a mirror of our deepest fears and desires, A call to cherish each moment, for in the end, it is the memories that conspire. To keep us alive, to keep us whole, in the vast and mysterious expanse of time.