The wind stirs softly, whispers
across the empty terrace, brushing
past the shoes lined like soldiers.

I speak to the wall's silhouette,
words almost misspelled in thought,
as if they too have given up.

Breathing matches the pulse,
each exhale a quiet resignation,
finding grace in silent surrender.

Yet, as I pause, the world moves,
unseen currents flow beyond grasp,
a dance we never truly understand.