The moon still rose, but not for us.
The stars kept their distant, silent and still.
Our laughters became echoes fading through time
like a song forgot its tune.
The bridge we built now sleeps beneath the river,
and even the wind doesn't whisper your name.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 6:45 PM UTC
The moon still rose, but not for us.
The stars kept their distant, silent and still.
Our laughters became echoes fading through time
like a song forgot its tune.
The bridge we built now sleeps beneath the river,
and even the wind doesn't whisper your name.
