Fan Whispers

In the room where echoes linger,
a fan hums a tune of old stories,
hair sways in the gentle breeze,
thoughts drift with the spinning blades

A woven mat spread across the floor,
holds secrets of feet that passed,
eyes trace the patterns of yesterdays,
as the fan whispers forgotten dreams

The air grows warmer, heavy with silence,
yet a glimmer flickers in the stillness,
a soft glow amidst the weariness,
finding light where fatigue once lay

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